Sold
by Transparent Existance
Summary: He only wanted a gallon of milk, but he ended up in the wrong place, at the right time
1. Chapter 1

**SOLD**

**Summery: He only wantedd a gallon of milk, but he ended up in the wrong place, at the right time. **

**Disclamer: I do not own Criminal Minds, or its wonderful characters. **

**Rating: T for now, i guess. **

**[a/n This is my very first fic, i know it isnt the best, but heree you go!**

-1 They were prepared, everything was planned. The time, the location, the boy whom they had watched as per command, whom they had stalked. Every night, around ten-thirty, he would walk down the terrace's sidewalks to head toward the bus, their van would be waiting. They had orders, and there would be consequences if they were not followed.

Special agent Dr. Spencer Reid arrived home mercifully early. The last case had been simple, exceedingly so for him, but they had done their job and saved a roomful of innocent people. But the unsub, he had been terrifying, especially his eyes. So dark, empty. Reid shook the image away, ready to be rid of the case.

He was hungry and tired. The girls had gone out for drinks, the guys were all out on their own. Reid had contemplated staying with the girls, wanting to be more social, but he was tired. So he simply walked through his tidy apartment, toward the kitchen. Then he went to the cupboard, pulling down a box of _Trix _cereal. Not the most gracious dinner, but it would more then work.

But then an unspeakable tragedy fell upon Reid, something of the utmost horror. There was no milk in the refrigerator. How could he not have the one thing that he used most often? He paused, there were other things he could have eaten, but he wanted that cereal, and a late night stroll would be good for him. To be outside roaming, not on the hunt for a madman. his car was in the shop, so he could not drive. It seemed a good idea.

Jeremy was annoyed, he knew that he would be late for the bus, and even though Josie had promised to drive him home, he was still annoyed. He had had plans, Devin and Tyler were waiting, but Josie was going through a hard time, and she needed him.

So he would stay with her, as long as she needed. After all, she had done the same for him.

Spencer Reid walked into an out of the way gas station and went strait for the milk. He had not meant to travel so far from home, but the calm of the night and the constant turning of his mind had kept him walking. Though, he did not mind. He grabbed the milk, paid for it, and walked into the night. Not wanting to walk all the way home, he headed for the bus stop.

It had happened so quick, so unexpected. The terrace was full of people, the bus stop eight feet away, when Reid felt the world shift. Hands. From no where, there were hands all around him. He had made to scream, when a hand, rough and smelling of onions sealed his breath. Reid dropped the milk, and the gallon burst open. He fought to pull his gun from his bag, it fell to the concrete, unnoticed.

Within a matter of seconds, he was within a van, a thick blindfold tied across his eyes while another cloth was forced into his mouth. He trembled as his hands were forced behind his back and restrained with flex cuffs. He felt a light turn toward him, bright and harsh. He could hear three separate men speaking, their words incomprehensible at firsts, and then he heard a growl of agitation, and tried to shrink away from it.

"This isn't Jeremy."


	2. Chapter 2

-1Yay!! I made it to part two fairly quickly…hehe, I got a head-start on it though. Um.. I want to thank REIDFANATIC and Mabelreid for being my first reviewers ever!! It is an inspiration to continue. Thank you muchness!

**Disclaimer:** They are not mine… TT

A middle aged woman starred at the discarded gun on the sidewalk, watching as the spilt milk circled the weapon. Something so dangerous, lying on the sidewalk in dirty milk, it seemed a bad sign. She held her son close, afraid, and turned to a young man who was hoping to catch the bus.

"Call the police." Her voice rose with panic.

"Yeah," The boy replied, pulling out his cell phone.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-..-.-.-.-

"What the hell do you mean, not Jeremy?" another voice boomed.

Reid struggled, unsure of what was happening around him. It appeared as though they had confused him with another man, did that mean they would let him go? He stiffened when he felt hands moving him, forcing themselves into his pockets.

"Who the hell is he?" His wallet and his badge were removed.

There was a stifled laugh. "Special agent Spencer Reid of the FBI!" he laughed more loudly. "He's with the FBI!"

"Are you frickin' serious?" Another man asked, obviously stunned. "We nabbed a cop?"

The next voice was obviously the driver's, the car swerved as he spoke. "a cop! Dude, what the hell are we going to do?" he was panicking.

The second man spoke. "We kill 'em. We can't risk keeping him here."

Reid went still, his breath stopped. The first man spoke again. "No," he snickered. "We take him in, and hand him over. Then we come back for Jeremy."

"what if they don't want him?" The driver's voice rose.

"Then we kill him." The second man replied, sadistic laughter on his tongue.

The first man snickered. "I believe, that quit a few of our investors will be interested in this one. An FBI agent, especially a young, attractive one will fetch a pretty penny."

Reid listened to their words, trying to interpret what they were discussing. He was afraid; however, because that first man's voice sent a fear through him like he had never felt, and he was helpless against anything that might come against him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was too early in the morning when Gideon went for his third cup of coffee. He had come in early, startled awake by a nightmare. Birds. Beautiful and majestic, flying in a furry of color and raining blood drops. A baby fell from the nest, helpless, it cried. A large, aged eagle swooped down to save it. But a raven had also plummeted toward the young bird, talons raised.

He had come straight to work, there had been nothing else to do. Garcia was already in her office, cheerfully typing away at her computers. Sometimes he had to worry whether or not she ever slept.

Gideon strode over to the coffee pot and began pouring another cup when Hotch and Morgan walked into the office, soon followed by JJ and then Elle. At first, he paid the incoming agents no notice, he was distracted by the dream. Then agent Gideon's phone rang, and the caller I.D. read the number of the local police.

"Gideon." he answered.

"Sir, we received a call this morning, an agents gun was found discarded on the terrace." He stopped pouring his coffee and lifted his eyes. Something wasn't right. "We matched the prints, they belong to an agent Reid?"

Gideon opened his eyes, he knew what was wrong. Reid was not there.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reid lay in darkness, counting statistics and probabilities in his head. His abductors had said nothing for what felt like hours, and he had lain there, scared, yet calm. He did not know where they were going, had not been able to figure out what they had been speaking about. A pretty penny, what had they meant? He prayed that the team knew he was missing, and that soon, they would come and find him.

Tires on gravel pulled Reid out from any stray thoughts he had been having. The car stopped, doors were opened and he was pulled to his feet. Rough hands held him tightly, guiding him through doors and hallways, down hollow stairs into a cold room. His bound wrists were clamped to some kind of metal ring attached to floor, and he was left in silence and darkness as all of the men marched up the stairs.

As soon as they were beyond audible distance, he leaned forward, trying to untie the complex knot of the gag with his bound wrists. It was no use. He moaned in frustration and began to pull at the flex cuffs, trying to free himself. Again, futile.

His stomach tightened with anxiety as he again tried to imagine just what these men were going to do to him. They had wanted some boy, one younger then himself. They had planned this abduction, been stalking Jeremy for a while. Someone else wanted this kid, was willing to pay for him. Ransom? Could it be? They had grabbed the wrong guy, and still believed that they would have a use for him.

.-.-.-.-..-.-..-.-..-

"What?" Gideon asked, motioning for Hotch to come closer.

"Yeah, the call was made last night, and we recognized the model, so it was immediately sent in for prints. There appeared to be signs of a struggle-"

Gideon hung up his phone and looked to Hotch. "Call Reid, now!"

"Jason-"

"Now!" Gideon bellowed.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A ring. Reid could hear his cell phone ringing in his pocket, and tried desperately to reach for it. It had to be one of the team, oh please let him be able to answer. The metal ring prevented Reid from being able to pull his hands into his pockets. Distressed tears formed in his eyes. Still he tried, and somehow was able to hit the speakerphone button.

"Reid?" Hotch's voice was strained, yet relieved that Reid had answered.

There was no way to form a solid reply, he could only speak in muffled pleas.

"Reid!?" Hotch strained, worry lacing his usual calm.

There were footsteps from above, his abductors had heard his ringing phone. In desperation, Reid pleaded as loudly as he could, sending muffled cries through the phone, letting Hotch know he was there as his abductors began yelling in the background.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It seemed as though the phone went on ringing forever. The anxiety on Gideon's face had been enough to send a wave of worry through his own body. Something was wrong. After an eternity, the ringing stopped.

"Reid?" there was no answer, only a panicked sound.

"Reid!?"

Hotch could hear the distant sounds of footsteps moving closer. He also heard desperate, muffled pleas for help. _Oh god, Reid_. Then he heard the voices, at least three men, all running toward Reid. There were echoes of flesh hitting flesh, and then the line died.

"REID!" Hotch yelled into the phone, closing it and redialing. There was no answer.

"what is going on?" Morgan demanded.

Gideon faced the team, his face determined, his eyes pained. "The local police found a FBI model gun on the terrace last night, Reid's gun."

"From the sounds of the phone call, he was restrained. There were at least three men in the room." Hotch told Gideon.

"Oh my god," JJ gasped.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was a sharp poll on his wrists, and then another hit sent his vision spinning. They knew, the team knew that he was in trouble, they would come for him.

"damnit Andrew, you should' a checked for a phone." The first man growled.

The second voice, Andrew snapped back. "you decided to keep him."

Reid steadied himself, the pain from being hit subsiding. Only the blindfold was throwing his sense of balance off. He was angry.

The first man cackled and strode over to Reid, grabbing him by the hair and leaning close to his ear. "they can look all they please, they will never find you. Abductions like this have been going on for years, we are never caught. You will be broken, and you will be sold. You will never see any of them again."


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again!! Thank you for still putting up with my writing, and for the reviews, I honestly did not expect so many. Thanks guys, 3

I am trying my best to be a better writer with each chapter, and I will try and keep them coming at a regular schedule, hehe, I know what it is like to really get into a fic and then the writer doesn't continue, makes me sad…

Anyway, here is chapter three, enjoy!!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned them, the world would be very different, but I do not, and it is this.

The scene of Reid's abduction provided no answers. The team scanned the small area from where his gun had been found, where the milk had spilt. There was nothing, no prints on the gun or milk, no spec of evidence as to who had taken Reid or why. And of course, though the area had been full of people, no one had seen what had happened. It was as if the air had opened and swallowed him, a flash of cold and he was gone.

Despite their lack of evidence, members of the BAU strived to find something. But nothing came about. They were worried when they did not receive any call from Reid's abductors, and when they had traced the whereabouts of his phone, it had been discarded near a shabby pizzeria, and no fingerprints had been left.

A week had passed since the abduction; no calls had been made to the BAU. They strived day and night for some kind of clue, but found nothing. Then the dreaded order came.

It hurt them all deeply when they were told to focus on the other cases at hand, that the likelihood of them ever finding their Spencer Reid was too little to allow them to continue looking fulltime. Reid's picture had been given to the media, and they would not give up, but too many other people needed their help.

"We're just going to give up?" Morgan was furious. "He needs us!"

Hotch closed his eyes, pained at having to make the decision. "We're not giving up Morgan, there are other cases-"

"You're leaving him in the hands of god knows who-"

"Morgan!" Hotch raised his voice, angry because inside of his mind, Morgan spoke the truth. "There is nothing we can do. The kidnappers left no evidence, they never called, we, we can't even be sure that Reid is alive." It was as if a knife had severed Hotch's control over his feelings, his voice broke.

"There's got to be some way we can keep looking." Elle said. Her anger and worry were plain.

"There are other cases." Hotch said before walking away.

"Gideon," Elle turned toward the older man, seeing his own pain.

"There's nothing we can do." Gideon replied, hating the taste of the words.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

For a week, Spencer Reid had been kept in almost complete solitude. His muscles were sore from constantly sitting in the uncomfortable position he had been left in. Sitting on his knees, his bound hands secured to a metal ring in the concrete. He was barely able to stretch back far enough to lean against the wall. The gag was only removed so that he could eat, and the blindfold was never moved.

He found that the pain was dulled by his fatigue, and the tears would no longer come. He'd began to believe that the team would never find him, even he knew that there was no evidence for them to process, and his phone had been taken away, probably discarded. Thousands of people disappeared as he had every year and were never found. He knew that they would not give up, but they could not look forever.

The leader of the men, who Reid had come to know as Jake, came down the stairs, whistling a song he had never heard. He tensed as the man stepped off the final stair, and moved toward Reid. He slipped the gag from Reid's dry lips, and pressed a glass of water against his mouth.

"Drink." He commanded, and Spencer did.

"It's been a week, Mr. Reid. My boss will be expecting us tomorrow night."

Reid pulled away from the glass. "You can let me go, "He pleaded. "I haven't seen your faces, I-I can't identify you."

Jake laughed. "My boss is already expecting you now, and the other."

Jake set the glass on the concrete and replaced the gag, hitting Reid as he struggled. "Obedience is key, Mr. Reid. You'll learn it, or _they_ will teach it to you."

Reid's reply was a muffled curse, a restrained attempt to fight back.

"We will return shortly, we still have to, _pick up _Jeremy."

Despite being weak, Reid pulled against his bounds, trying to protest. He could not let someone else be put through this.

"Don't worry, after we pick up Jeremy, we'll come back for you."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jeremy felt strange walking down his usual routine. Only a week ago, a federal agent had disappeared around here. But that was over, it didn't really matter now.

Jeremy walked toward the bus stop, the same walk as always, at the same time. He was approaching the stop when a pair of hand enclosed him, trapping him in darkness as the wheels peeled out.


	4. Chapter 4

Ah!! Sadly, I am getting slower, between work and Gaia, there just is not enough time in the day, but I am trying, and all of you are so wonderful. Thank you, and here you go!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own, but wants them for Christmas, and my birthday…and Easter!!! Oh, wait!! And Halloween!!!!

"We have another one!" JJ stormed into the bullpen, papers clenched in her hands.

"What are you talking about?" Morgan asked, tired of other people's needs.

JJ slammed the papers on Hotch's desk, paying his surprise no heed.

"Another boy, he was taken from the same spot Reid was."

"What?" Hotch collected the papers, looking over them.

"Wait, another boy?" Elle gravitated toward the others.

"Seventeen year old Jeremy Gubler. He takes the same route every night on his way home from work. He always rides the ten-forty bus home. He was taken from the exact spot where Reid went missing." JJ pieced the parts together.

"Get everyone to the conference room." Hotch ordered, looking over the papers.

JJ turned on the screen, and a picture of a teenage boy came forward. "Jeremy Gubler went missing from the exact place where Reid was taken a week ago. An elderly woman caught a glimpse of him being forced into a white van; his book bag was left on the sidewalk."

"He was stalked." Gideon's voice sounded thoughtful. "Whoever took them, was stalking Jeremy, waiting for him. They grabbed Reid by accident, and then waited for everything to calm down before going back for the kid."

"But why keep Reid?" Elle asked. "What did they have to gain?"

"I don't know, it is an interesting question though." Gideon replied.

"We need to know who Jeremy is, and why these guys were after him. I also want to know where he was when they grabbed Reid. Morgan, have Garcia check and see if anything similar to this has happened before." Hotch gave his orders, and the team jumped to it, all secretively relieved to be able to look for Reid again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Had he been sleeping? Reid could not tell anymore what was dream and what was passing the time in deep thought. He had not heard the van pull back into the garage, of the scampering feet above him until one of his abductors was violently unhinging the flex cuffs from the metal ring.

"Try anything, and I'll kill you." It was Andrew.

Reid felt the tip of a knife at his throat and nodded his head, trying to remain calm.

"Get up!" Andrew ordered, hastily.

Andrew forced Reid to his feet, not caring that his legs were practically jelly. Still blindfolded, he stumbled up the stairs as he was lead to the garage, and then forced into the back of the van.

"Drive!" Jake commanded.

Reid felt the body next to him trembling, it must have been Jeremy. None of the abductors spoke as the van skirted into the road, then began to drive normally. Reid tried to relax, but was afraid. If they kept moving like this, the team may never find him, even with this new abduction.

_Please let them leave something behind_. He begged the darkness.

The front window opened, and there was a clatter as something was thrown from the vehicle. Reid sighed, not knowing what it was, but hoping that it would lead the team to them.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Jeremy Gubler, seventeen, high school student and script writer for the school play." JJ began, handing out small files on the boy. "His father is a wealthy owner of an small oil mine, and his mother is a pediatrician."

"Garcia found at least thirty other mysterious kidnapping like these over the last three years from all over the country. Teenage sons of rich parents' just vanishing, never any evidence left, and they are never found." Morgan reported.

"I talked to his parents," Elle chipped in. 'They said he was with a Josie Dern on the night Reid went missing. She was going through a rough time and he stayed there to comfort her."

"These boys are targets, all over the country. All of them are taken from crowded places, yet no one sees. There are no ransom calls, and they are never found." Hotch said.

"What are the unsubs doing with them?" Elle asked.

"All over the country…" Gideon muttered.

"Wait, how are they kidnapping boys from this many different locations?" JJ asked, looking into the files on Jeremy.

"The kidnappers are lackeys, that's how they can abduct these boys from so many different places." Gideon said, taking in the information.

"Then they are doing this for someone else, but who? Why?" Morgan asked, his mind racing to put everything together.

Gideon's mind picked through every case he knew, and every possibility. He felt that the answer to one of Morgan's questions, all of their questions, was there. Memory after memory, he searched, until something struck him, something he had read a long time ago. "Slaves…"

Hotch looked up, as if hearing Gideon say it made everything clear.

"What are you talking about?" Morgan stared at the two, seeing the understanding on their faces.

"In the 1950's, there was a string of kidnappings, much the same as these, they were the work of a gang leader in South Dakota. Had his henchmen kidnap women in their 20's, and he kept them as slaves." Gideon's face instantly changed, realizing what his thoughts meant for Reid.

"You think the perpetrators are using these kids as slaves?" Morgan questioned, his anger growing.

"That means their going to use Reid as a…" JJ couldn't finish the sentence.

"Not if I can help it." Morgan said angrily.

Their conversation was halted by a ringing phone, Hotch's phone. Everybody waited, anxious to know what had happened. Hotch's face was tight when he hung up the phone.

"The police found Reid's badge and wallet, along with Jeremy's I.D. in the downtown area, along the sidewalk."


	5. Chapter 5

You are all so awesome. .

**Disclaimer:** If it is not a previously mentioned holiday, or I did not receive them, they are not mine, and I am sad…..

The drive never seemed to end, a constant succession of bumps and angry grunts. After the clatter of the discarded objects, chaos had broken loose. Jeremy had become violent, screaming and fighting as best he could while their abductors had fought. It had been minutes before anything had been done, and Reid had hopped that the commotion would alert someone on the outside, but no one had noticed. Despite knowing that it was pointless, Reid tried to squeeze his hands through the cuffs, wanting to do anything but sit and wait.

In and out of consciousness. Aware, yet oblivious. There were no in-betweens. Reid had lost track of time, and his thoughts were scattered. Every minute that went by seemed to mock him, laughing at his predicament. _You will never get free_. The voices laughed.

He could feel the motionless body of Jeremy beside him, he had fallen into sleep awhile ago. If only it were that easy. But he had been vicious, fighting, even after he had been hit. His muffled screams had echoed through Reid's ears long after he had fallen into sleep, and now, utter silence.

When the car slowed, it was to enter a long, bumpy stone driveway. It was a shock when the vehicle stopped moving, it almost seemed like an impossibility. The driver, who he now knew as Erik, was scared, he had thrown something out thee window, and Jake had threatened to kill him if they were caught, it gave Reid hope. One of them had messed up.

"Where did they find them?" Gideon asked, ready to grab his jacket and head to the scene.

"Downtown, Jackman Street. A couple of girls saw something fly from a van window, and then heard yelling as the van sped away. They went to check it out, and found the badge and ID. They recognized Reid from the TV., and called the police."

"Now that they have what they wanted, they aren't going to stick around." Elle had al ready made for her desk. "There are run down duplexes for rent around there, that's probably where the kidnappers are staying."

"We need to get down there immediately, and have Garcia run a background on any prints left on the badge and I.D." Hotch gave his orders, they were ready to go within moments.

The van door slide open, cold air clung to Reid, relieving him. But then one of his abductors grabbed hold of him, pulling him out of the van and forcing him to his feet. His legs were shaky, but he was able to stand. He listened as Jeremy was forced out of the van, still protesting, though he was much weaker now.

"Get them to the room." Jake commanded, sliding the doors shut.

They were marched farther up the driveway, up the wooden stairs of a creaky front porch and into an old house. It smelt of must and mildew. They were marched up more stars, and forced into another doorway, once in that room, they were forced to their knees.

Their abductors spoke in low whispers, and then one re-entered the room. First he removed the gags from each of their mouths, and then, slowly, the blindfolds. Even the dull glare of the light bulb seemed too bright after a week of darkness. The flex cuffs were not removed, and before Reid could focus his eyes, he and Jeremy were locked in the room, alone.

The owner of the duplex vaguely recalled three young men in their late twenties renting the lower living space. They had come in, and paid three weeks advance in cash, but had stayed a week longer then they had planned. During the last week, she said that they had seemed anxious, especially the youngest one. They had driven a large, white van, and kept to themselves, and the name given when the lease was signed was a fake.

It was obvious that little time had been spent inside the apartment, everything was too clean. They would have the CSI team check it out, but these guys were organized, and not very likely to make too many mistakes.

Morgan was walking into the basement when his phone rang. "Tell me you got something baby."

Garcia chuckled. "I have two identified sets of prints, one belonging to an Erik Boeger, and the other Andrew Flans. Both of them have criminal records."  
"You are wonderful." Morgan said as he hung up.

The basement was just as clean as the rest of the apartment, the only thing that stuck out was the metal ring which had been welded to the floor, and the sight of it sent a wave of dread through his entire body. Had this been where they had kept Reid? This whole time, he had only been forty minutes away.

When Reid's eyes had adjusted enough that the light no longer hurt, he looked at Jeremy. He was young, with soft blonde hair and expressive blue eyes. He was thin, but not scrawny, maybe 5'5. An attractive young man, had that been why they went after him?

Jeremy looked at Reid, recognition in his eyes. "You're the cop that went missing on the terrace."

Rid smiled, though he did not know why. "Spencer Reid, I'm with the behavior analysis unit."

"Jeremy Gubler, high school student." he leaned back, looking at his bound hands. "What are they going to do with us?"

Reid closed his eyes, wishing he knew the answer. "I don't know, but they mentioned something about investors…" His voice trailed off as he remembered Jake's words. _"You will be broken, and you will be sold. You will never see any of them again." _

"Do you think they'll kill us?" Jeremy asked, his voice empty.

"No." Reid said. "My team will find us first."

Jake hit Erik, sending him sprawling to the floor. "You idiot!" He kicked him in thee stomach, ignoring his pained cries. "Your prints were on those, and you threw them out the window."

"I-I'm sorry." Erik cried, clenching his side. "I was scared we'd g-get caught if we kept them…"

"So you throw them out the window for the police to find?" He punched him in the face, blackening his eye. "I have been doing this job too long to get caught because of your ignorance." He sneered.

"Please…" Erik begged.

"Watch him Andrew, Mr. Crane will be here soon." Jake stormed off toward thee door.

"You really messed this up, you know that." Andrew said angrily, kicking Erik hard. He was worried, his prints had been on the items as well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I had a dream, and they were mine, but then I woke up, and they were not...

Back at Quantico, the team was looking over what they knew about two of the abductors. There had been nothing else left at the duplex; there had also been no license plate on the van. Once again, they had almost nothing.

"Erik Boeger, 25 year old Caucasian male. Arrested twice for substance abuse and once for assault." JJ said as a picture of a wide-eyed man came up on the screen. "He was released from jail about a month ago."

The next picture came up; it was of an angry looking colored man. "Andrew Flans, twenty-seven. Arrested for assault, auto theft, and armed robbery. He was released from jail about the same time as Boeger."

"Neither of these men are the leader, they are both following orders. They are too careless to be in charge." Gideon said, studying their faces.

"They probably met in jail, and then one of them persuaded the other to help with the abductions." Elle pitched in.

"Get their faces out, we need them found and brought in as soon as possible." Hotch gave the order, and JJ gathered her things and dialed here phone.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.

Jake smiled when the new Mercedes rolled up the driveway. Now that Mr. Crane was here, he no longer had to stick around. He would know how to 'prepare' the cargo upstairs. That was al they were, products to be sold, nothing more.

"Jake, always a pleasure." Mr. Crane greeted. He was tall, attractive and muscular. He had been in the business longer then Jake by at least six years, but Jake had taken a liking to him, they were much the same.

"You'll find them both in the upstairs room." Jake smiled. "And Erik in in the dinning room."

"Ah yes, the loose end. I suppose well have to deal with him first."

"Right this way." Jake said, taking him into the house.

Neither Andrew nor Erik had met Mr. Crane, and both feared him. They had listened to Jake talk about him, and the things he had done. Erik squirmed, his eyes tearing.

"I-I didn't mean to."

He was hit, much harder then Jake had hit him. "You threw the items out the window, are you trying to say it was not purposely?"

"No but,"

He was hit again. "Then you intentionally did so, endangering this operation, and upsetting many of the investors who already heard about it."

"I'm sorry." Erik pleaded. "It won't happen again."

Mr. Crane smiled. "No, it won't." He pulled a gun from his belt, and shot Erik.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reid jumped at the sound, as did Jeremy.

"What the hell was that?" Jeremy's eyes widened.

"A gun." Reid said simply, trying to listen to what was going on…

"No shit, but why are they shooting?"

"I can't be sure," Reid said quietly. "But something went wrong…"

Jeremy slumped against the wall, pulling at his bound wrists. He knew he needed to be calm, but how could he? The men who had kidnapped him were downstairs fighting, and now someone had been shot!

Footsteps echoed on the stairs, coming closer. Then in the hall, all the while the voices were too quiet to understand. Reid and Jeremy both stiffened as the door was unlocked, and Jake and a stranger walked in.

Jeremy looked at the stranger and gulped. "What do you want from us?" He demanded.

He was hit before he saw the man move toward him. "Only speak, when you are spoken to." He breathed warmly.

Jeremy sank away from the man, terrified. "Y-yes sir."

The man smiled, and then looked at Reid. "You were right," He said to Jake as he moved closer, touching Reid's face. "He will sell quite nicely."

Reid wanted to be away from the man, but there was nowhere to go. He closed his eyes as the man's fingers softly moved over his face, and then pulled away.

"Good job, Jake. A few mote routine abductions like this and you'll be working my job."

Jake smiled, obviously pleased with the comment. "Thank you, Mr. Crane. I'll leave them to you."

Mr. Crane smiled wickedly. "Thank you, and have Andrew clean up the mess downstairs."

"As you wish." Jake smiled, and disappeared.

"Get this cleaned up." Jake said, handing Andrew a wad of cash. "Your payment for the job. Delivered as promised, when the cargo is handed off."

"Wait, what do I do with the body?"

"Leave it somewhere isolated. The police will find it, but the longer it takes the better." Jake said, and then he was gone.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Andrew took Erik's body deep into a small forest; he left it above ground in hopes that the animals would eat it before it was discovered. He washed the blood from his hands, changed into clean clothes and burnt the dirtied ones. Then, he headed into town. He had his money, and hopefully, his prints were not traceable.

But when he got there, the money no longer mattered. A young, pretty blonde girl whom he recognized from after they had first abducted the FBI agent was on television again, and behind her, was a picture of his face, and Erik's. Their names were given to the public, along with a description of what they had done.

"…_And Andrew Flans, they are wanted for the kidnappings of seventeen year old Jeremy Gubler, and Special Agent Spencer Reid…"_

Andrew looked at his pocket and shrugged. He then headed toward the police station, to turn himself in. It was no use running, now that he'd been identified, the big guys would hunt him down and kill him, _to protect their secret_, but he wasn't going down without taking a few of them with him.


	7. Chapter 7

-1I am so sorry that this has taken so very long. I have not been able to get to my computer, which is where the chapters are stored, again, I apologize, and thank you to everyone still reading.

**Disclaimer: **not mine…

Mr. Crane smiled as he inspected Reid and Jeremy. He was forceful, using one strong hand to hold their bound wrists, and the other to look them over, taking in their physical appearance, strength, and everything else. Jeremy had tried to be brave during his examination, he had argued, and even tried to bite Mr. Crane, but that had only resulted in his being hit. Now, he lay unconscious on the floor, while Reid was being inspected.

"We usually don't take them in at your age." Mr. Crane said thoughtfully as he ran his fingers over Reid's chest and stomach. Reid tried to move, but was held in place. "But you are a fine young man, and your background," He snickered. "I almost feel bad for you."

"Why is that?" Reid's voice shook.

"Most of our investors are criminals, to say the least, and you, _were_ an FBI agent. More then one of them will want to get his hands on you."

Reid swallowed his rising fear. "What are you going to do to us? Why-" He was hit.

"Do not speak. One of the first things you must learn as a slave is never to question the one who owns you, and until the auction, I own you."

Reid let the information sink in as he was inspected. A slave? Of course, now the things Jake had said made more sense. It was frightening, the thought of being trained, forced to bend to someone else's will. Most of all, to be sold.

.-.-.-.--..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The next few days were a form of hell that Spencer had to assume were going to the best he would see if they were not rescued. They were left in the small room, bound and hungry for the first day, left to wander over their fates. Jeremy was more afraid, or at least, he showed his fear more openly. Reid had told Jeremy what Mr. Crane had said, and the teen had become angry. Shouting that he was an American citizen, he would never be anybody's slave.

Reid had stressed that, if they were to acquire any sort of advantage, they would have to remain calm, try an earn their captors trust. Acting out was not helping them, only getting them beaten.

The house was too quiet, as if they were there alone. Reid had tried to pry the door open, only to have it opened by Mr. Crane. He had grabbed Reid by the throat and thrown across the room. He had struggled to crawl away as Mr. Crane grabbed his hair and pulled him close. Jeremy had reacted then, charging into the bigger man, only to be thrown down.

Reid struggled against him as he was held against the man, trying to get free. Mr. Crane held Reid close to him, bringing his lips to the young agent's ear. "You will never be free." He promised, taking a moment to kiss Reid's neck, causing him to struggle more. After a moment, he let Reid go, and left the room.

The next morning, they were brought food. It was not much, bread, cheese and a few vegetables, but they were so hungry neither cared. Reid did not look at Mr. Crane when he entered to bring the food; he tried his best to stay away. The solitude was getting to them, the utter silence and lack of real light driving them mad. How long were they going to be kept like this?

On the third day, each of them received their first beating. Mr. Crane had stormed up the stairs, cursing. He threw the door open and strode across the room, slapping Reid and grabbing Jeremy by his shirt collar. Neither knew what to think. He then continued to hit Jeremy, screaming incoherently until the boy was crying and begging forgiveness. He dropped Jeremy, smiling, and went after Reid.

Reid tried to back away, but Mr. Crane was much faster, stronger. He grabbed Reid's hair, twisting it between his fingers, and yanked him closer to Jeremy. When they were within inches of Jeremy, Mr. Crane pulled Reid to his feet and threw him against the wall, and then he wrapped his hand around his throat.

"Your master will come home angry, and you will be the release." he threw Reid down, gasping for air. "Never fight back, unless he wants you to." Mr. Crane then left, as if none of it had ever happened.

On day four, Mr. Crane brought a whip into the room; he only used it to scare them, snapping it so close to their bodies they could feel the air move across their skin. Then on day five, he hit them with it. Brief, sharp bites that stung yet healed easily. Reid and Jeremy both cried out as their flesh was assaulted, wishing for some kind of end to their pain.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Five days had gone by since the kidnapper's information had been given to the media, and still nothing. That is, until Hotchner's phone rang.

"All right, we'll be right there." Hotch sighed and hung up his phone. "They've got Flans." he said to his team.

"How?" Elle asked.

"He turned himself in. He wants to talk to us."

"I'll talk to him." Morgan muttered under his breath.

The ride down to the police station was tense. No one was sure why Flans had given himself up, or what to expect. But they were all hoping that this would lead them to Reid. So far, they knew that two of the men holding their youngest member were vicious criminals, and they were sure that they would only hand him off to someone more malicious.

They arrived at the police station, all remained silent. They entered the building, searching with their eyes. They were nervous, though none wanted to admit it. What if he were here to mock them, what if Reid were dead?

"Agents." Greeted the police chief.

They nodded back, Hotchner stepped forward. "Where is he?"

"Right this way." The chief motioned for them to follow him down the hall, they did.

Andrew was calm as Hotchner and Gideon entered the room, sitting across from him. Too calm for a man in his position.

"I'm agent Hotchner, this is Agent Gideon." Hotch introduced.

"I'm Andrew, but you know that." He smirked.

"Where are they?" Hotch asked, all ready tired of Andrew's attitude toward them.

"Jake disappeared, and Erik's dead." He said with a smile.

Hotch glared at him. "If you are not going to cooperate, then why did you turn yourself in?"

"I needed protection." Andrew shrugged. "Erik's mistake got us both identified; now, they'll do anything to keep you from knowing about their operations." Andrew chuckled. "You get me some kind of deal, and keep them from killing me, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** They are not mine, but season one is, muahahahahahahah

"You get me some kind of deal, and keep them from killing me, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"What kind of deal?" Gideon asked, looking into Andrew's eyes.

"I don't want to spend too much time in prison, ya know? And, I don't want it getting out that I'm helping you."

Outside the room, Morgan's blood was pumping. He watched through the two-way mirror as Flans sat there, smug, Reid's safety in his hands. If he were in that room right now, Flans wouldn't be asking to be kept safe from the men he had worked with.

"Why is he so calm?" JJ asked, watching Andrew smile.

"He knows that we have to try and meet his demands, because he knows we want to find them." Morgan answered.

JJ smiled. "I'd love to knock that smirk of his face…"

Morgan had to smile, because it shocked him to hear JJ say that. "Me to."

"Tell us where Reid and Jeremy are." Hotch said calmly.

"First, finish the deal."

"I don't know that you're going to tell us the truth."

Andrew laughed sarcastically. "I turned myself in; I'm already a dead man."

"Knowing that, you have no reason to withhold information." Gideon's voice held more patience than he possessed. "If they aren't found, you get nothing at all."

Andrew sighed, angry, but at a loss. "We left the duplex the day the ID'S were discovered. We took 'em to an abandoned house to wait for the next guy."

"Another victim?" Gideon asked calmly.

"No. The guy who ready's them to be sold."

To hear him talk about selling another human being so nonchalantly angered and scared everyone. He was talking about Reid, and an innocent teenage boy.

"What do you mean by _ready's them_?"

Andrew looked up playfully. "He gets them into the habit of submitting. He'll deprive them, try to befriend them, He will attack them emotionally, and physically." He stares them strait in the eyes. "It's what he's paid to do."

"What kind of monster does that…?" JJ closed her eyes, not really wanting to watch the interview.

Morgan unclenches his fists, placing an understanding hand on her shoulder.

"Tell us where they are." Hotch said, less calm then before.

Andrew sighed, it was time. Those who had set out to kill him would suffer, but so would the men who were going to imprison him. "There is an old house, on the edges of a small forest about two hours from the duplex where we were staying. That's where we took them to hand 'em off." He gave them the address.

Morgan was all ready heading for the car, Hotch and Gideon followed close behind. Hotch flipped open his phone, making the necessary calls, and they were off.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Mr. Crane smiled as both Reid and Jeremy backed away from him, eyeing his whip with fright. Neither wanted to be hit again. He laughed heartedly, grabbing Jeremy's chin. "We all ready have a buyer for you. A man who your father angered will keep you at leashes length."

Jeremy shut his eyes, not wanting to anger Mr. Crane, fearing the mans brutality.

He smiled at Reid. "There are many interested in purchasing you." His lips curled. "No offense, but you were with the FBI, and too many of them suffered at you men's hands. Oh, how you will suffer." He whispered, releasing Jeremy and leaving the room.

"The apartments hold your fates." He said almost too quietly to be heard.

Once he was gone, Jeremy looked at Reid with terror-filled eyes. "I don't wanna be sold to anyone."

"Don't worry." Reid said, though he was trembling. "My team will find us."

"What if they don't?" Jeremy's voice shrank.

_Please don't say that_. "They will…" Reid hoped.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-..-..-.-.-

Mr. Crane hung up his cell phone, anger rushing through his veins. Flans had given them away; the police were on their way. Mr. Crane turned to one of his lackeys angrily, snapping his whip. "Prepare them immediately!"

Three men burst into the room, hurriedly grabbing Jeremy and Reid, dragging them to their feet. Each was held tightly, while one of the men prepared a needle.

"What's going on?" Reid asked, shrinking away from the man who approached him.

"Were leaving." He answered simply, thrusting the needle into Reid's neck. Then he prepared another.

Jeremy struggled uncontrollably as the man neared the needle to his neck, only half of its contents were injected. But the man thought it enough, and led the others, who marched Reid and Jeremy down the stairs. The effects of the syrome already making the two too tired to fight.

A barely conscious Reid leaned toward Jeremy as the doors to another, smaller van were being opened. "I want you to run Jeremy; you've got to lead the police to us…"

"What about you?" Jeremy asked, finally feeling the syrome work through him.

"Just get my team, I'll be okay…" Reid swallowed hard, and then kicked the man holding him in the shin.

In the confusement, Jeremy kicked his own capture in the groin, and then began to run. He ran as fast as he could, listening to the men angrily rise and run after him.

"Run away!" Reid shouted as he was hit in the stomach, falling to the ground.

Jeremy ran as best he could while his body fought to shut down, sluggishly, he continued on, thanking Reid, but fearing for him. He ran, until he tripped over a large, hollow log hidden in deep grass. Too tired to continue running, he pulled himself into the log, praying that he was not found.

Mr. Crane grabbed Reid roughly, thrusting him against the door to the van. "You will suffer for this."

The sound of distant sirens caught his attention, his face became more aggravated. "Move out." Mr. Crane commanded.

As they sped away, the house went up in flames, erasing all evidence of who had been there. And as Reid passed into unconsciousness, he watched the flashing sirens, and hoped that they would hurry and find him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **Ish not mine...

The dust was settling and the flames rising when the police finally pulled up in front of the house. None of the BAU hesitated to jump from the halting vehicles, weapons raised, and run toward the house. Panic spread through each as they watched the flames eat away at the building where they had been told Reid was being kept. They all prayed he was not inside.

"Damnit!" Morgan cursed, the flames dancing in his eyes.

Hotch watched the dust as it settled on the road, a car had gone in pursuit of the van, but had lost it. This settling dust was the last reminder that Reid was within reach, yet had been spirited away once again. He turned to Gideon.

"Someone tipped them off."

"They've got someone on the inside." Gideon confirmed Hotch's unasked question. He turned, and looked at JJ. "Call the police station, get someone to watch Flans."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Andrew was sitting in the interrogation room, his mind racing. He had never feared death before, but now, he saw it waiting on the face of everyone around him. He knew that they were serious about killing him to maintain their secret. He had seen them in his apartment, waiting for him, had witnessed them waiting everywhere he used to regular.

He jumped when the door opened; a short, thin cop with a baggy uniform top walked in. the cop was quiet at first, avoiding eye contact with Andrew. He chuckled silently. Was this one afraid of what he had done? _Kidnapping a federal agent only caught due to someone else's mistake. _He thought bitterly.

The cop looked into Andrew's face, his voice, like his face, was slightly feminine. "Would you like a glass of water?"

Andrew sighed tiredly. They wanted his fingerprints probably. Not like they don't all ready have them on file. He thought and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

The cop walked out of the room without another word, or glance at Andrew.

Andrew stared at his hands, once again graced with silver handcuffs. He hoped that they found their missing friend, all the while hoping they didn't. He wanted a bargain, because he did not want all of his life in prison. He had a son on the way.

However, he wanted them to suffer, more then they thought they were now. They knew what fate was awaiting their friend, and Andrew sincerely hoped that the guy got a taste of it, because _he_ was the other reason that Andrew was sitting here. Had _he_ not been where Jeremy was supposed to be, the abduction would have gone like all of the others, and he would be at home, with his girl, and a lot of cash.

The officer walked back into the room, holding a red plastic cup filled with cool water. He set it in front of Andrew, and moved back, waiting.

Andrew sighed heavily and picked up the glass, making sure to leave a good print, and drank the entire thing at once. He felt it then, a burning that did not belong. His eyes blurred, and it did not matter whether or not they found poor little Spencer, because Andrew knew he would never see anything outside of the interrogation room. His body became numb, his breath a distant memory, and he fell onto the table, limp, lifeless.

The officer flooded his arms under his head, as if he were sleeping, and took the cup with him as he re-entered the hall. A heavy, smiling officer walked past him, muttering under his breath about having to keep an eye on the room where Flans was being held.

The officer smiled, tossing the red plastic cup into a random waste paper basket, and left the building, leaving it almost as if he had never been there.

Once he had made it to his car; however, he changed. The officer pulled off his hat, and blonde hair tumbled out onto his shoulders. He climbed into the backseat, and peeled the uniform away, exchanging it for a tight, black skirt and fitting mauve dress shirt. Then, she unwrapped her breasts, letting them breath, and smiled as she re-applied her makeup.

She dialed a number, and waited until the forth ring, when it was answered.

"How did it go?" A deep, suave voice purred.

"Flans wont be leaking any other information." she smiled at her reflection.

"Very good. You have pleased me, and for that, you will be rewarded handsomely."

She quivered with delight. "Anything for you." She hung up, moved into the driver's seat, and drove away.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The whip snapped, cracking against Mr. Crane's face. He did not flinch, nor even blink. He knew that he would be punished, but he also knew that he would get vengeance for his punishment. The man was angry, pissed even at the escape of what should have been his newest slave.

"This is an unsightly blemish on your reputation, Mr. Crane." He said smoothly.

"I apologize. I put my trust in another man." he replied coolly.

"Come, let us walk." He said, attaching the whip to his belt.

Mr. Crane rose to his feet, and followed the man who ruled over all of them. "Thank you, sir."

The man sighed, looking over the dank basement, and to the limp body of the accidental abductee. "I have had my eye on Jeremy for three years, waiting to get vengeance on his father for mine, and my father's imprisonation. My brother's death."

Mr. Crane turned to the man, a subtle smile on his bruised face. "The boy knew pain before his escape, and he will forever remember the fear."

The man smiled. ."Yes, for that, I thank you. But we shall also add guilt to his psyche." He cackled. "I want the auction rigged, this one will be mine. I will pay handsomely for him."

"As you wish." Mr. Crane smiled. This man owned the business; he could have whomever he wanted.

"Have him ready, the auction is tomorrow night. Leave no evidence with the video, only despair." The man smiled, taking a long look at the unconscious Reid, and left the musty basement.

Mr. Crane smiled, then lifted Reid by his hair, forcing the agent from his drug-induced sleep. Reid looked at him, eyes unfocused and brain fighting to remember what had happened. "You will regret helping him escape." Mr. Crane hissed, then dropped him back onto the floor.

_**Author's note: **I'm joining 9 and 10!!!!!!_

JJ hung up her phone, agitation clear in her blue eyes. She thought of what the officer told her, rolled the words around in her head, yet refused to believe them. She looked to the burning house, ablaze, yet smoldering. She looked past the flames, and saw only Reid, alone and afraid. Her heart pounded in her chest and she continued to look for Hotch.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"There are footsteps leading into the yard, follow them and see where they lead." Hotch told Morgan, who accepted the command.

"Yeah." Morgan replied. Anything to keep his eyes away from the burning building, his mind from the thought that Reid could be in there.

He looked at the trampled grass; the hurried, sluggish steps that had made them belonged to someone who had been frightened. A part of him hoped that it was Reid who had made those tracks, that he was out there somewhere, waiting for them to find him, hiding from the men who had taken him. Morgan followed the tracks, seeing where someone had been chased, and where the chasers had given up.

His hopes raised, and he followed the steps faster, with more adrenalin. Someone had run out here, and maybe, maybe it was Reid.

As Gideon watched the flames dance and die, he thought of the dream he had had, of the young bird falling. In his mind's eye, he saw Reid falling, and even though his arms were stretched out to help his young friend, another's arms were moving faster.

JJ watched the dancing flames' reflect on Hotch's face, and shook away the pain in his eyes, the pain she imagined were in Reid's.

"Flans is dead." She said quietly, believing the words now that she had said them aloud.

"What?" His face became gravely serious.

"Right after I called, an officer went to go and watch Flans' room, but he was all ready dead." JJ said bitterly.

'Do they know who did it?" Hotch asked, tired.

"No, the officer had seen a young, male officer leave the room though. He didn't think about it until later, but he'd never seen the man before."

"All right. You and Elle go back to the police station, see what you can find."

"Yeah," JJ said, taking one last look at the burning house.

"What's going on?" Elle asked, moving away from an officer she had been speaking to.

"Flans is dead, we're going back."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Morgan followed the steps, watching as they grew harder to see as the flames began to die. He could tell that whoever had made them had been very tired. They grew more sluggish as they went.

A moan passed through Jeremy's lips as he felt a centipede crawl over his face. He wanted to move away, crawl out of the decaying log, but was too tired, and too afraid. He could hear the nearing footsteps, and clenched his eyes shut, afraid that he had been found.

Morgan followed the feint sound, someone was out there! A few seconds later, the tracks ended, like the maker had disappeared into the breeze. Then another moan sounded, slightly magnified by the hollow of the log two feet away. Morgan looked at it, someone was in there!

"Reid?" He asked quietly, hoping.

Morgan pulled out his flashlight, and peered into the hollowed log.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reid opened his eyes. Blinking away the dust of the basement floor. His entire body was trembling despite his attempts to remain calm. He knew that Jeremy was safe, and hopefully, he would be able to lead the others to wherever he had been brought. Reid prayed that it would be soon, because he only had till tomorrow night until he was sold.

A shiver ran up his spine. Sold. Given away like an inanimate object for a price. He had come to fear Mr. Crane; he did not want to know what worse men could come to possess him.

At the sounds of footsteps and sight of rising dust, Reid's body stiffened. Mr. Crane smiled cruelly, the welts on his face from the whip glowering at Reid hatefully. "Less then twenty-four hours, and you'll be sold."

"You don't have to do this." Reid could think of nothing else to say, his fear was becoming more powerful.

"No. But I want to. I'm going to enjoy seeing you given to him." He chuckled. "You're gonna wish Jeremy hadn't escaped, and that you had been up for grabs by anyone willing to pay."

"You can walk away-" Mr. Crane's hand flew into Reid's face, his foot into his stomach.

"I want to sell you." He said angrily. "I've lost a lot of money because you helped Jeremy escape, you also dented my reputation."

Reid said nothing, only lay on the floor, breathing heavily and fighting the want to cry.

"We need to get you ready, c'mon." Mr. Crane forced Reid to his feet, and led him toward a thick door across the room.

The room was a small, escapeless bathroom, with toilet, sink and a small shower. Mr. Crane released Reid's wrists from the flex cuffs, and pushed him into the room. "You have an hour; make sure you are clean when I get back. The door was locked, Reid was alone.

The first thing Reid did was check for any possible way to escape the little room. There were no windows, and all of the walls were too strong to break through, the door could not be forced. In frustration, Reid sank to the floor and stared at his bruised wrists.

It felt as though there had never been a time when he had not been bound, when he could move his arms freely. In reality, it had only been about twelve days.

He hated to do what he was commanded, but he felt filthy. Reid slowly removed his clothes, taking a moment to examine the bruises and cuts on his back where he had been hit with the flogger and the whip. It was disgusting.

Hesitantly, Reid stepped into the small shower, and washed away the filth, letting the lukewarm water mask his tears as he silently cried.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I apologize for the delay, my computer's USB port broke, and I lost internet connection with it, now I have to re-write the chapters, word for word, which is no easy task. Again, I am sorry for the delay, and I thank those of you who have reviewed, and are still reading, I will try and update as quickly as possible…

"Jeremy?" Morgan asked, relieved, yet disappointed.

The boy coughed weakly. An attempt to answer.

"I'm agent Morgan, with the FBI, I'm gonna pull you out of there."

Jeremy squirmed, afraid, though he recognized the name.

Morgan sighed, and reached his hands into the log, firmly grasping Jeremy's ankles. Instantly the boy began to struggle, terrified, yet weak. Morgan held onto him, and gently as he could, pulled the struggling boy from the hollowed log.

He closed his eyes when he saw Jeremy, seeing the fear and pain set in his eyes frightened him, made him wander how badly off Reid was right now…

Jeremy stopped struggling, destabilized by the drug that hadn't been fully injected. He knew this was not one of Mr. Cranes men, and the name, he _had_ heard it before.

Then he remembered Reid, who had fought to free him, who had remained trapped. He struggled again, bolting up and staring into Morgan's eyes with a fierceness like he had never known. And then, as if all his bravery had been drained away by a flash memory of the past five days, and Jeremy began to cry.

Morgan released Jeremy's bound wrists, and carefully began to massage the circulation back into them. He took in the bruises, and the dried blood masked by dirt and decay of the log. He listened to Jeremy's sobs and incoherent mutterings as something darker then fatigue fought over the boy, pulling him into unconsciousness. He pulled Jeremy into his arms and called Hotch.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Where's Morgan?" Gideon asked, watching as the foremen put an end to the fire that had consumed the house.

Hotch seemed distant, as if he were somewhere far away. "There were tracks leading into the yard, toward the forest. I asked him to follow them." _I hoped they would lead to an answer_. He thought silently.

Hotch snapped completely back into reality as his phone began to ring. It was Morgan.

"Hotch," Morgan's voice was strained. "Man, I found Jeremy."

"Any sign of Reid?" Hotch asked, hopeful.

Gideon turned toward him, curiosity in his deep eyes.

Morgan sighed. "No, not a sign of him."

"Bring him here, now." Hotch said, angry though he did not let it show.

"What happened?" Gideon asked. The flames were dead.

After a moments silence, he turned toward Gideon. "Morgan found Jeremy. There's no sign of Reid."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reid had just turned of the shower water when Mr. Crane burst into the bathroom. Immediately, he fell to his knees, trying to cover his nakedness with his arms, eyes averted.

Mr. Crane snickered. "You're all ready learning." He jeered, throwing a light bundle at Reid. "Put those on, and come to the door. Do it quickly." On his way out, Mr. Crane took the clothes Reid had been wearing, and slammed the door.

Reid took a towel from the pile and wrapped it around himself, and then he stared at the clothes Mr. Crane had brought for him. Black leather pants and a loose, black cotton vest with no buttons. Reid's stomach turned as he thought of himself in those clothes, waiting to be sold to some creep. But he knew that if he did not do as he was told, the beating would not be pleasant, not when Mr. Crane was all ready angry with him.

Humiliated, Reid pulled himself into the leather pants, hating them all the more after he put on the vest. He felt so exposed, so dehumanized. He waited as long as he could before he knocked on the door, and then exited the room.

Mr. Crane had been waiting and wasted no time before forcing Reid against the wall, grasping his bruised wrists tightly, binding them in front of him with thick leather straps.

Once again, Reid found himself bound, defenseless. In his fear; however, he found anger, and in a blinding wave of hate for what was happening, he acted out. Mr. Crane had expected obedience, and suddenly found himself fighting to maintain his balance as he was violently pushed away. An angry growl escaped his throat.

"You wont escape!" Mr. Crane's voice, like his footsteps echoed against the concrete walls as he chased after Reid, seriously angry.

Reid ran toward the old, wooden stairs, trying his best to run and climb in the suffocating leather pants. He had made it up four steps when one of his ankles was seized, and he fell forward, breaking the fall with his bound arms.

He kicked at Mr. Crane. "Let me go!"

Mr. Crane smiled, using the weight of his body to restrain the struggling product, bringing his face against Reid's. "You have just made this so much better for me." He breathed hotly. "You are not getting out of this, no matter how hard you try."

Reid continued to struggle in a futile attempt to fight as he was forced down the stairs and thrown against the wall. Mr. Crane forced his bound wrists above his head, securing them to another metal ring. Reid fought against the restraint, afraid.

"Lets give your friends one last look at you, shall we?" Mr. Crane smiled cruelly, pleasure in his eyes. Jeremy would know guilt, and the FBI would harbor despair, because no one could save this boy from the fate he had fallen into.

Reid tried to melt into the wall as he was hit across the face. Mr. Crane grabbed his cheeks roughly, pulling Reid forward. "You will never see the sun again."

Mr. Crane pulled an odd, hateful device from a nearby shelf, something Reid had never imagined would be used on him in his lifetime. The ball gag was forced into his mouth, his continued attempts at fighting in vain, his protests silenced. Mr. Crane turned Reid around, scratching his stomach against the concrete wall, and then proceeded to whip him. Lash after lash, Reid felt his skin break, biting down on the gag hard enough to leave eternal teeth marks, trying not to cry out. He closed his eyes to the pain, and silently hoped that soon, this would all be over, like a nightmare that takes longer then usual to wake up from.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N **Thank you everybody for your reviews, they were really nice, I wish I could thank everyone personally, but I now have to use the family computer, and have no time for anything other then trying to re-write the rest of this fic and check messages. But thank you all. . This is a long chapter...

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, nor am I profiting from this.

They had followed the ambulance to the hospital, wanting to speak to Jeremy, all of them curious as to what had happened in that house, though none wanted to admit his need to know.

Jeremy was rushed through the hospital to the emergency room, out of their sight. His parents had all ready been informed that he had been found, they would be arriving shortly.

Morgan paced the waiting room restlessly. The image of Jeremy, bound, crying and bloodstained trapped within his memory. Flashing new every time he closed his eyes. He fought to keep images of Reid, alone and in pain from his imagination. He did not want to see those images if there was a chance Reid was not so bad off. But Morgan could only lie to himself so much before the lies crumbled like a newspaper fort in a cruel summer's breeze.

Gideon watched the closed, emergency room doors as if, at any moment the doctor would emerge, ready to let them through. But the doors remained still, the pandemonium on the other side a silent film without the subtitles. He had not seen the boy before he had fully fallen into unconsciousness, but he knew from Morgan's explanation that he was a mess. Whatever had happened had changed him, scarred him. How badly had this affected Reid? _What was happening to him now? _Gideon shook away the thoughts, not wanting to see a broken Reid in his mind. Knowing that Reid was stronger then that.

Hotchner sat in a cold, stiff waiting chair, his wallet open to a picture of he, Haley and Jack. He looked into the photograph, into all of their eyes. Haley's were so warm, so loving, and Jack's so innocent. Beneath the love that shone in his own eyes was a deep, impenetrable fear. A fear of what could happen to them when an enemy found his way to the core of Hotch's existence. Because he loved them, they were in danger.

He thought of all the men who might seek revenge, and shuddered. At first, he thought he would not be able to fully understand what Jeremy's father must be feeling, how hurt he must have been until he received their call. But Hotch realized that he felt he knew exactly how Mr. Gubler must feel. Reid was a friend, almost like a little brother, and he had been taken from them. Their team, which was a small family on its own. He sighed, heavily and replaced his wallet to his pocket, watching as Mr. and Mrs. Gubler rushed into the emergency waiting room.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

JJ and Elle stood in silence, listening to the heavyset police officer describe the strange young man he had seen leaving the interrogation room where Andrew had been waiting.

"I went in, and he was lying on the table, like he was sleeping!" The officer spat, then softened his expression. "I shook him when he wouldn't answer me, but he was dead."

The body had all ready been sent down to be autopsied, to find the exact couse of death. They all knew that he had been poisoned, right under their noses.

Elle picked up her phone, dialing Hotch's phone number to give him the details. JJ looked at the officer, his face was shadowed by guilt and anger.

"Get us the surveillance videos, and send a copy of the autopsy report." She told him.

"Yes ma'am." He said: glad to get away from her gaze.

"All right." Elle said, hanging up her phone.

"What have they got?" JJ asked sarcastically, not expecting them to have found anything around that burned down house.

"Morgan found Jeremy, hiding in a log out in the yard."

"What?" JJ asked, her heart leaping. "Did they find Reid?"

Elle shook her head. "No sign of him. They're waiting for the doctor to give the okay so they can question Jeremy."

JJ did not respond, she only thought of what Jeremy must have been like, and a chill ran down her spine. "How bad was he?"

"He was unconscious by the time Morgan carried him back to the house," Elle hesitated. "He was crying, and there was blood where it appeared he had been whipped."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I want to see my son!" Mr. Gubler almost shouted at the nurse.

She backed away from him. Her short brown curls bounced around her face as she shook her head. "I cant allow you back there yet."

"He's my son!" Mr. Gubler exclaimed.

Gideon approached him. "Mr. Gubler, I'm special agent Gideon."

Mr. Gubler turned toward Gideon, eyes desperate. "Can you make then let us in?"

Gideon shook his head. 'It's better if we talk first."

Mrs. Gubler, a small, timid looking woman grabbed her husband's arm. "We should listen to them."

He sighed, then put an arm around her shoulders. "All right," He sighed, looking at the emergency room doors.

They all sat in the stiff waiting chairs, silent at first. Hotch broke the silence.

"Mr. Gubler, do you know anyone who would want to kidnap Jeremy like this?"

"I work in oil, everyone is a little angry with the raised prices, but to kidnap my son, and want to-" He could not even comprehend the thought.

Mrs. Gubler looked at each of the agents, her eyes wide. "What did you do with the perverts who did this?"

A wave of pain flashed in each of the agents eyes. "They got away, with the agent they abducted the week before taking Jeremy." Hotch replied.

"I'm sorry." She replied, turning her eye down.

"Why did they leave Jeremy behind?" Mr. Gubler asked, confused.

"They didn't." Morgan said, a bit sharper then he had meant to. "It looked like he escaped."

"How?" Mrs. Gubler asked.

"We need to ask Jeremy, as soon as the doctor says its okay." Hotch said, looking at Mr. Gubler.

"No." Mr. Gubler's words shocked them all. "he's all ready been through too much."

Morgan was on his feet within seconds of the word no. "One of our guys is still with them, and the only person who can give us any kind of clue as to where they took him is your son!"

"Morgan!" Hotch warned, Morgan backed away.

The doctor came through the doors, sensing the sudden tension. "He's awake, and can see visitors."

Hotch looked at Mr. Gubler, who took a moment, thinking about his son's welfare. "All right, but if he wants you to leave,"

"We'll go as soon as he asks." Hotch replied, all ready following the doctor to Jeremy's room, Gideon and Morgan close behind.

Mr. Gubler grasped Morgan's arm, pain and worry clouding his eyes. "I'm sorry, I-"

"It's okay." Morgan assured, eager to follow Hotch.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Jeremy stared at the bruises on his wrists, at the way his hands were still shaking. He could not believe that he was here, that he was anywhere other then that house. He did not want to remember what had happened to him, but the memories played through his mind like a television movie with no commercials, and he had lost the remote.

Most clearly, he remembered Spencer's voice in his mind, telling him to run. He had done what Spencer had asked, and planned to do everything else, but was afraid. Afraid of what was happening to Spencer, of what would happen to himself. The bruises stared back at him, laughing reminders of what had happened.

When the door opened, Jeremy's entire body tensed. He was afraid that they had found him, that they were going to take him back. But after a minute, after watching the three strangers, and then his parents walk in, he relaxed. He vaguely remembered one of the men from earlier, when they had found him…

Mrs. Gubler rushed to her sons side, hugging him tightly, avoiding the sight of his bruised wrists. Mr. Gubler stood back, knowing that the agents wanted to talk to his son.

"Jeremy," His voice was pained. "These men need to talk to you."

Jeremy looked at them. "Are you Spencer's friends? I'll only talk to them."

Hotch nodded tiredly. "I'm agent Hotchner, this is agent Gideon, and Morgan."

Jeremy tried to smile at Morgan. "You found me…"

"Yeah." Morgan half smiled back.

"Jeremy," Gideon said calmly. " I know this will be hard, but we need to know what happened over the last five days."

"I'll tell you everything; will it help you find him?"

"We hope so." Gideon said truthfully.

Jeremy nodded; hoping whatever he knew would help them. "They grabbed me, tied me up and stuff, then headed back to their house. One of the men, I couldn't see them, I was blindfolded, said they _had to pick up the other_. After they grabbed him, I tried to fight them, I was scared," He said defensively. "But they knocked me out, then we were being lead up some stairs, into a room where they took off the blindfolds and stuff. They kept us tied up the whole time. They shot one of their own guys." He looked at the agents.

"Spencer was already kinda roughed up before the first night in that house. He didn't really tell me about the first week of his abduction, just said that he was mostly alone." Jeremy turned toward his bruised wrists, a reminder of his week, then turned away from them. Spencer had saved his life, now he would return the favor. "Those five days were hell. Our hands were never untied, there was a small bathroom closet, but there were no windows, no light. At first they didn't feed us; we were so tired as it was. Spencer tried to get the door open, but Mr. Crane," Jeremy said the name with a mixture of disgust and fear, "He caught him, threw him across the room. I tried to help him, but Mr. Crane was a lot stronger. Spencer tried to get away from him, but he held him there, pinned him down." His voice was rising. "He told him, he'd never be free."

"The next day they fed us, nothing else. But after that, he burst into the room, and beat us. He grabbed us by the throat; hit us until we were begging him to stop. Then he told us our masters would do that too. Then, then he hit us with whips…" Jeremy shuddered at the memory, and he saw the hurt in the agents' eyes.

"After that," He continues softly. "He told me that a man my father angered was going to buy me. He was so mean to Spencer; he told him that because he was FBI, the men would want to buy him to hurt him." Jeremy was afraid. He had not comprehended Spencer's danger until now. "You have to find him!" He begged.

Gideon closed his eyes, trying to burn away the image of Reid bound, and being beaten like a dog. "We're going to." He promised. "What else did he say?"

"He told us, the apartments hold our fate." He laughed quietly, but it was a quiet, pained sound. "The whole time we were there, Spencer kept telling me to stay calm, that you guys would be there to save us."

"We did our best, but we weren't quick enough." Hotch said, pained.

"He saved my life…" Jeremy said quietly. He looked up to the agents, curious and confused. "Before they tried to load us back into the van, they injected something into us, to make us tired, but they didn't get all of it in me. As they were forcing us in, Spencer told me to run. He attacked the guy holding me, even though he was too tired to stand, and told me to find you guys." Jeremy was crying, his guilt becoming stronger.

Gideon placed a reassuring hand on Jeremy's and smiled. "Reid's a lot stronger then he looks, we'll find him."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A young man, in clothes too baggy to be standard police uniform approached the front desk of the hospital, carrying a small package. The nurse behind the counter looked at him and smiled. He was kind of cute, a bit feminine though, especially in the face.

"This needs to be given to the agents with Jeremy Gubler, immediently." _His voice is a bit feminine too_, she thought.

"Right away." The nurse nodded. She gave the package to a male nurse, and sent him to the room.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Agents?" The young, male nurse poked his head in, unsure.

"Yes?" Hotch asked, still hurting with the words Jeremy had spoken.

"This just arrived from the police, he said it was urgent."

"Thank you." Hotch examined the package, confused and dismissed the nurse. "JJ or Elle would have called before sending this." He said to Gideon, who was eyeing the box distrustfully.

"Open it." Gideon said, his hand still on Jeremy's.

Hotch opened the box, finding only a small, burnable DVD in a clear, blue case. His heart ached, fearing he knew what would be on it. He slid the unmarked disk into a DVD player in the room, the screen remained pitch black, but a voice rose from its darkness.

"_Hello Jeremy_." The voice cackled.

"That's him!" Jeremy gripped Gideon's hand tightly. "Mr. Crane!"


	12. Chapter 12

Still, trying to re-type, sorry its taking so long.

**Disclaimer:** not mine, unfortunatly.

Jeremy's fingers were like a vice, gripping Gideon's hand as if for the sake of his life. "It's Mr. Crane!" Panic filled his voice.

Mr. Crane's cackle echoed in every ear in the room, a cruel, sadistic sound. "_I congratulate you on your escape, none have done so and lived. Kudos_." Another cruel cackle. "_You'll be glad to know that we wont be coming after you again, no, your buyer has taken a liking to your friend, so he will take your place_." An undistinguishable sound in the background. "_When all is done, Jeremy, he will wish he had never helped you escape. His fate, is blood, Jeremy, is on your hands_." The darkness began to clear, and what they saw stopped all of their hearts.

The picture cleared, and they saw Reid, nothing like he had been thirteen days ago. His wrists were bound above his head, he hung limply, unconscious from the wall. His wet hair hung, masking his face which was obviously tear stained. Bruises on his chest, his throat. They looked at the revolting gag that silenced any cry for help he might make, and all of them wanted to vomit. Blood, red and fresh was trailing down his back, snaking around his sides.

"_He will be sold tonight to the man who wanted you, Jeremy. This blood, Jeremy, is on your hands_." A clear, sadistic laugh and the picture went black.

Morgan's eyes blazed with hate at the man Jeremy had identified as Mr. Crane. Seeing what that man had done to Reid, listening to him blame Jeremy. Morgan clenched his fists until his knuckles were moon white and crescents bleed from his palms.

Hotch stared at the empty screen, the image of Reid burned into his eyes. He could not stand it, did not want to see it. He wanted to find the men ho had been n the patrol car in charge of chasing after the van and force the officers to explain why they had not moved faster, why they had let this, _man_, get away with Reid.

Gideon was squeezing Jeremy's hand as much as Jeremy was squeezing his. Jeremy was crying, trying not to, but he was.

"This is not your fault." Gideon assured him.

Jeremy averted his eyes, staring at the dead screen. He knew that Gideon was telling him the truth, but he was unable to accept it. "If I hadn't run away…"

"Reid wanted you to run, Jeremy. What you've told us, will help us save him. If you hadn't gotten away, we might never have found either of you."

"Can you really help him?" Jeremy asked, tears in his eyes.

"With what you've told us, yes." Gideon said, reassuring Jeremy, trying to ease the boys guilt.

Mr. Gubler looked to the agents as they prepared to leave, his eyes shone with pain for their loss. "I'm sorry." He said sincerely. "I hope you find him."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hotch and Gideon walked into the police station, both of them with their minds occupied by what they had heard and seen. They had left Morgan as the hospital to sit with Jeremy while they waited for an official police bodyguard and a sketch artist to talk to the Nurse who had been given the package. Morgan had been so openly angry, he had needed to just sit and cool down, to focus his mind.

It was with hesitance that they handed he video over to Elle and JJ, to view it themselves for a second time. They needed to hurry, because no matter how strong Reid was, he could not take much more of this.

.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reid opened his eyes slowly, aware of the cloth being used to clean his face. He was still standing, supported by the metal ring in the wall, his arms were numb, his body sore. He could tell that the blood had been cleaned away from his back, as the traces of his tears were being cleaned away from his face.

He shook as the cloth was pulled away from his skin, its steamy warmth replaced by sudden cold. He closed his eyes as the gooseflesh covered him, and then opened them, hatefully eyeing the man that stood before him. Mr. Crane stood with a smug expression on his face, tapping on a small video camcorder. Reid turned his head, ashamed. He knew that the others had seen something; Mr. Crane had said that he would give then one last look, but what had they seen? Reid had not seen the camcorder while he had been conscious, so it had to have been used after he had blacked out.

He attempted to question Mr. Crane about it, but he had forgotten about he gag in his mouth, his teeth forever indented. Unable to speak, he glared at the man.

Mr. Crane slapped him. "It will do you no good to stand up to me, if you do that to your master, much worse will be done to you." Reid turned away from him, forcing back tears.

Mr. Crane smiled; unhinging Reid's bound wrists from the metal ring. His arms fell lifelessly, his body fell to his knees. "There's no time for that, you're almost up."

Reid looked at him, confused and shocked. Surely he had not slept through the entire day! What had this man done to him?

"Oh yes." Mr. Crane smiled. "I'll be rid of you in the next fifteen minutes." That said, he forced Reid to his feet, and up the old stairs.

It was a large theatre. Reid observed, looking around as he was led closer to the long, navy blue velvet curtains. All around were dust covered props for shows that had not been performed in years, discarded beer bottles and cigarette butts were he cleanest things to be seen. Up ahead of where Mr. Crane was leading him, Reid saw three teenage boys, all of them bound the way he was, in the same clothes. He could also hear the auctioneer calling out prices, selling those in line before him. This was it, Reid shuddered. Once he was sold, the team would never find him. He closed his eyes, trying to remain calm. At least Jeremy had gotten away…

Reid was jerked forward. "This one goes to Sanders, bid him for show, but he goes home with Sanders, no one else."

"Understood." The man said, roughly taking Reid from Mr. Crane. "Nice doing business with you."

"Likewise." Mr. Crane smirked at Reid, and disappeared, just as Jake had done.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"We have until tonight to find out where they're selling these boys." Hotch said, his voice hard.

"It will be somewhere big, where they wont expect interference. A private building."

"A lot of theatre buildings and show houses are rented out downtown." Garcia said over the phone. "I'll check into them."

"Jeremy said that Mr. Crane mentioned apartments." JJ pitched in.

"Might be some kind of code name." Gideon murmured.

Elle walked back into the room with Morgan. "The nurse at the hospital identified the officer she saw as the same one seen here earlier today."

"We have out leak, now we just have to find him." JJ said, staring at the identical sketches. "I'll run these by the other officers, see what they know."

"Hotch looked up. "All right, but I want you and Elle to go back to the hospital when your done, see if Jeremy remembers anything else."

"Sure." Elle said, following JJ.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-

A bright, hot light shone on him as he was dragged across the wooden stage. The man who Mr. Crane had spoken to pulled on his bound wrists harshly, almost tripping him. The man stopped next to the auctioneer, a tall, handsome man at the podium, and told him what Mr. Crane had said. Bid him only for show…

The auctioneer grabbed Reid by his hair, and held tight as the other man walked off of the stage.

"A member of the FBI," He snickered to the crowd. "Special agents doctor Spencer Reid, only twenty four, yet he still holds that beautiful look of wide eyed innocence we all prefer in a slave." He forced Reid to his knees, still holding him by the hair.

Reid wanted to scream out as he watched the men in the audience eyes him, sizing him up and looking into their wallets, but his hurting mouth reminded him why he could not.

"Shall we start the bid at, Four thousand?" The auctioneer cooed.

"4,500!" Cried a man in the corner.

"5,000!"

"5,900!"

"6,050!"

Reid's head swam as he looked at all of the hands flying into the air. _This was unreal_!

"9,000." Called a man in the middle, and for a moment, no one else spoke.

Then a voice called down from the balcony, and even the whispers stopped. "10,000."

The man in the audience looked angry, Sanders was the man in the balcony. The man in the audience ignored Sanders' daring gaze. "10,500."

A wave of murmurs spread through the room, people looked around anxiously.

"11,000." Sanders said coolly.

"11,500." The man dared.

"12,000." Sanders turned to the man in the audience. "You'll back down now Brendon."

Brendon looked into Reid's eyes, smiling. "12,500."

"13,000." Sanders called. "Brendon, you have al ready purchased a new slave, this one comes home with me."

"I would gladly back down were this any other boy." Brendon looked at the auctioneer. "14,000. But he killed my father."

"15,000." Sanders looked down to Brendon. "We have all lost someone to the police, Brendon, but this boy is mine, and that is final."

Brendon looked as if he might bid again, but angrily sat down instead, glaring at Reid with pure hate.

The auctioneer peered over the crowd of gossipers, then smiled as he pulled Reid to his feet. "Sold!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** still not mine, nor am i profitting.

Brendon stormed out of the main room, furious. Sanders could have any of these boys, he didn't even have to wait for them to go up for auction, yet he had taunted all of them with that boy. He had known that everyone would want him, that all of them wanted to get back at the authorities in some way. Sanders had breed hostility in taunting them; he had earned a grudge with Brendon.

Without looking back at auction room, where one of the last three boys was being auctioned. Brendon went into the waiting room, an old dressing room for the stars of the performances, to pick up the edition to his own collection. A young boy, no more then fourteen, but his father had earned him this punishment. Unlike some of the other owners, Brendon did not use his slaves for sex; they were merely his way of hurting the men of the world.

The boy backed away, frightened, as Brendon approached. Brendon slapped him. Like all newly sold slaves, the boy was bound, gagged, and afraid. _As he should be_. Brendon thought.

"A collar." He said to the man overseeing the slaves.

"Yes sir." The man fished out an indigo colored collar with a small metal ring in the center.

Brendon did not thank the man. He forced the boy to be still as he fastened the collar around his neck, locking it with a small, but strong lock. The key rested on a ring, a ring full of similar keys. Brendon almost laughed at the boy's attempts at begging, but he was angry, and hit the boy more before attaching a leash and dragging him from the small room.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The phone rang. Hotch and Gideon both looked to it, as if it were some sort of holy object, as if it held every answer that they needed to solve this case and bring their comrade home. Each wanting so badly to pull him out of the nightmare they had glimpsed on the video.

It rang again, and each reached for it, praying that it was what they were hoping it to be.

Morgan got to the phone first. "Hello?" He said tiredly.

"This your goddess, prey for an answer." Garcia chuckled, but Morgan could sense the sadness behind her sweet voice. She had no doubt seen then video, and was probably hurting as bad as the rest of them.

"I'm on my knees baby girl." He responded, ignoring Hotch and Gideon's curious stares.

"There are five separate theater buildings being used tonight. I tried to figure out how a big place they would need for their sick little show, and was easily able to rule out three." She paused. "They have to either be in the Frankfilery Theater, or the Majestic."

"You are wonderful." Morgan said warmly.

"I know." Garcia chuckled. "Now get you fine self over there, and bring Reid back."

"Garcia narrowed it down to two theaters." Morgan announced, ready to beat some creeps.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Brendon hesitated on his way to the door, his eyes falling on an old payphone in the corner of the lobby. Sanders had angered him; he deserved some kind of disturbance, one much closer ten Andrew and Eric he created. A smile crept across his face. He held onto his slave tightly, and paced across the room.

The phone rang six times before anyone answered. Brendon had been quit shocked at this, he expected the police to be more on top of things. Finally, a young woman answered. "Virginia police department, how can I help you?"

Brendon chuckled. "I need you to connect me to the man in charge of the kidnappings, I have valuable information."

The women hesitated. "Just a second."

Brendon waited, eyeing the cowering boy before him. Again, he was angry for the one he did not get.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Agent Hotchner?" A young woman asked.

Hotch looked up, shaking his head in reply.

"There's a man on the phone, he says he has information on the case your working."

Hotch turned to Gideon, then back to the young women. "Put him through." Hotch said, all ready picking up the phone in the room.

"Morgan, get Garcia to trace the call."

"Yeah." Morgan out his phone, and dialed the number. "Garcia-" he said before she could reply. "We need you to trace this call."

"Anything for you." she said, already at work on the trace.

"Hello?" the voice was smooth, and confident.

"I'm SSA agent Hotchner; I hear that you have information on the case we're working."

"Yes," The man chuckled, hotch's blood froze. "It's about the young agent you lost two weeks ago." the man sighed, as if deciding whether or not he wanted to continue.

"Are you still there?" Hotch asked his voice cold.

"I wouldn't take that tone, agent hotchner, because no one else is going to call you and tell you where we are."

"I'm sorry." Hotch forced the apology.

"So the FBI do have manners," The man laughed. "It was a pity, I had wanted to purchase the boy, but the bid was rigged."

Hotch grasped the phone tightly. "He is not property." He said, knowing that he shouldn't have, knowing that they may lose this tip, if there even was one.

"You are wrong; he now belongs to the man who started the business. Oh well." the man sighed.

"What?" Hotch asked not believing.

"That boy, he's already been sold." The line went dead.

Garcia called within seconds of the call ending. "They're at the Majestic." She said, then gave them the address of the theater. Once again, they were making the necessary calls, and hoping that they would get there in time, because if they didn't, the blood would be on their hands.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **not mine.

Gregory Sanders hung up his cell phone angrily; again, the police were on their way to a location they should not have known about. Someone had tipped them off, and Gregory was sure he knew who it had been.

He left the show room, heading straight for the star dressing room, where the sold slaves were kept, where his new toy would be waiting. He did not stop to talk to any of the buyers or other criminals who roamed the halls, there was no time. He knew that some would suspect that something was wrong, maybe they would chose to warn the others, they might not: he did not really care.

Without hesitance, Gregory burst into the dressing room, not even looking at all of the other sixteen boys who sat, gazing at him in fear, a moments relief passing when each realized that he was not the one who had bought them. But Reid Shrank away, beaten and afraid, he tried to melt into the wall, away from Sanders' sight. That sight, made Sanders smile despite his anger.

"I'm taking my purchase." He said to the big man who stood guard over the sold.

"Yes sir." The man said, pulling a maroon colored leather collar from a box, and handing it to his boss. "The best we have." He smiled.

"Thank you." Gregory strode over to Reid, grabbing him roughly and forcing the collar around his neck. A thick, black leather leash was attached to the collar. "We're leaving."

Reid tried to pull back, wanting to stay, because he knew that the team must have discovered this place by now. They would be on their way, and this nightmare would be over.

Gregory hit him hard in the stomach and Reid leaned forward in pain. At a loss of patience, Gregory yanked Reid toward the door, not caring that he could hardly walk due to malnourishment and the throbbing pain in his gut.

Annoyed, Gregory grabbed the back of Reid's neck, and forced him forward forcefully until they were outside of the theatre. Gregory saw his entire business going down in flames as he stared at the building, a few others were leaving early, they had noticed his strange behavior and caught a hint of trouble. But many more were still inside.

"Everything I have worked for is being destroyed because of you." He said, pulling Reid close to him.

Reid was unable to answer, but he was begging for an end to this nightmare. This building was his hope, if he was here, they would find him, but if he was taken away, what clues were there?

Gregory smiled; lapping in the young mans fear. "You are going to be worth it, though." He said, forcing Reid into the back of his limozine.

On a side without a door, but with a thick, tinted bulletproof window was another metal ring. The leash Reid was wearing fastened to it, but Gregory did not let go of him. Instead, he forced Reid to kneel on the floor of the vehicle, away from the window. Gregory did not want his captive to see the approaching police cars, to gain too much hope to be broken. Because Gregory wanted to break him in ways that would damage his soul, he wanted this purchase to be worth the business he was loosing.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Move in!" Hotch shouted into his radio, not hesitating.

The SWAT team burst into the theatre, and the police stopped all who tried to escape. It was chaos, so many were inside that building, so many men, criminals with nothing better to do then buy the sons of wealthy men.

Gun shots sounded from inside the theatre. Some of the criminals had come armed, a few were using the young boys, bound and defenseless, as shields. But none of those boys were Reid. They all needed help.

It was easy to persuade most of the men to release their hostages, because it was obvious that there was no way to escape. But a few were stubborn, and it had been risky taking the necessary shots to free the young men. Most of them seemed paralyzed with shock, others were crying. Some were dead, because the men who had used them as shields knew that they would never be free, and neither would the boys they had sought to hurt.

They stood outside of the raided building, watching the dead be zipped into body bags, watching survivors being carted into ambulances or police cars. There were so many. It was a mystery, deep as a black abyss, how this operation had gone on so long.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They were preparing to head back to the police station when Morgan heard a voice he recognized with pure, unadulterated hate.

Behind the barricades, mixed with the curious civilians was a creature spit from Hell, a man with no conscience, no morals.

"_His blood will be on your hands…"_

Morgan looked over the crowd, listening for the voice, hoping that it had not just been his imagination, his fear taunting him.

"What kind of people would do something like this?"

Bingo. Morgan saw the man, and was next to him before he had time to think about what he was going to do to him. He didn't need to think.

Morgan ignored the man's insults as he twisted his arm behind his back, painfully, and handcuffed him. The handcuffs were tight, but to him, they seemed just fine.

"What are you doing?" yup, that was his voice.

"You're under arrest for kidnapping a federal agent." Morgan said, dragging the man roughly across the street.

Mr. Crane stared at him, anger blazing in his eyes. "You have the wrong guy."

Morgan threw him against the hood, slamming him down hard. He then pressed against him, his face too close. "I know who you are, _Mr. Crane_, and trust me, you will wish you had never met me if you don't tell me where Reid is, right now."

"The name isn't familiar." Mr. Crane said coolly.

Morgan slammed him back into the hood, leaving a small dent. "Don't think I wont beat the shit out of you just because I'm about to arrest you."

Mr. Crane smiled and whispered softly, maliciously. "You should have heard him scream."

Anger, pure and hot as lightning during the storm sent sparking hate through Morgan's blood. How he wanted to hurt this, _man_, what he would do to him. Once more, Morgan thrust his head down, this time splitting his lip. "You are going to pay for everything you did to him and more." Morgan promised

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reid looked at the shabby apartment building as he was forced from the car, and up the steps. He stumbled, but did his best to keep his footing: there was a gun to his back.

Gregory was pissed. The cops had raided the theatre, his personal little market, and detained countless men who knew about the apartments, about him. Despite the fact that they feared him more then they could ever fear the police, he worried that they may spill his secret. All of this trouble, for one little mistake.

He looked at Reid, trembling and beautiful. "To the elevator." He said coolly.

Gregory's apartment was the entire eleventh floor. Reid looked at everything as he was led through its rooms, the neat, expensive furniture, the many metal rings installed to keep his slaves where he wanted them. Reid shivered.

Gregory laughed. He could sense the young mans discomfort, and he reveled in it. They entered the room farthest from the door, a master bedroom. Reid tried to back away from the room, his fear rising, but Gregory was strong, and he was forceful.

He walked Reid to the corner of the room, next to the king sized bed, where an isolated ring lay in the floor. Reid's eyes were watering as he was forced down onto the floor, upon the expensive Persian carpet, and as the leather straps blinding his wrists were replaced with authentic police handcuffs. He closed his wide eyes as his re-bound wrists were attached to a length of chain that was attached to the metal ring. The gag was removed, and Reid had to rest his jaw before he could look up to Gregory's face.

"Please…" He whispered weakly.

Gregory smirked, and Reid lowered his eyes. "You have cost me everything, but I wont leave this building." He looked outside a window far out of Reid's reach. "That'll find us soon," No fear in his voice, "But before they do," He chuckled. "I'll show you what it is to be a slave of mine."

Gregory lifted Reid from the floor, and threw him onto the bed. Reid became wild, fighting back as best he could, screaming in hope that someone would hear him. With no effort, Gregory nonchalantly tore a strip of the thick blanket, and held it with his teeth, and climbed on top of Reid. He hit Reid, once, twice before the young man stopped trying to hit back and began trying to protect himself. He forced Reid's bound hands above his head be pulling him farther from the metal ring, stretching the length of chain, tightening its restriction on Reid.

"Don't…Please…" Reid breathed heavily, tears falling from his eyes.

Gregory smiled, and tied the ripped cloth into Reid's mouth. He loved the sound of muffled cries, the feel of a struggle.

Reid tried to fight him off, but the length was stretched tight, allowing for no real movement. He cried out for Gideon, Hotch, Morgan, anyone to save him from the creature who was wrestling him down. A chill enveloped his body as the suffocating leather pants were forced away, and all Reid could do was cry as the cruel man who held him abused him under the cold gaze of the full moon.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**A/N **I know, I'm a horrible person. Actually though, in my original version, Mr. Crane escaped, so, I'm happy because he didn't.


	15. Chapter 15

I know, I kinda hate myself for what I did, but it was how the srory flowed, even when I tried to re-write it...

**Disclaimer: **i can only wish.

They had taken one hundred twenty criminals from the theatre, they had rescued nineteen young men, but they had not found Reid. It was a relief to the community, hell, to half the country, but the BAU felt only a sense of failure.

They had been so sure that they would arrive in time to save him, that they would be able to bring him back into the light, away from the shadows that had tried to claim him. The shadows that still held him, clouding the sun and calling for rain.

The police station was crowded, the cells full. Parents were coming in from across the country, eager to be reunited with their sons. These boys were but a few of the nights merchandise. According to them, the auction had started with twenty seven. Eight were either missing, or dead.

The doors to every entrance and exit were horded by the media, peering in to try and get the best information. Like harpies, feasting on these teenagers' pain, on the negative energy of the jail cells, pestering the parents desperate to be reunited with their sons.

JJ knew that she needed to speak with them, but her heart hurt to much. She had seen the way the boys had been afraid, the way they were dressed, bound. Reid had been like that, and once again, he had been taken away.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Morgan stood to the left of Mr. Crane, his hands flat on the metal table. Mr. Crane sat there, staring off, yet not unfocused. Morgan pounded down on the table, he didn't even jump.

"Tell me where Reid and those other boys are, and we just might be able to work something out for you."

Mr. Crane smiled. "I prefer them where they are. Suffering is such a becoming quality."

Morgan clenched his fists, stiffening his entire body. "If you don't cooperate, I will not make this pleasant for you."

"I'm sure the same thing is being said to your friend right about now." Mr. Crane chuckled.

There was no hesitance, Morgan hit him, landing his tightly clenched fist into the man's jaw. Re-splitting his lip.

Mr. Crane was surprised, he had not expected that much force to be used right in the police station. Sure, he had endured worse in training to become a preparer, but this was surprising. He remembered how angry he had been outside the theatre, and he knew that this man didn't care where he was, he was going to get violent.

"You'd have been wonderful at my job," Mr. Crane taunted, licking the blood from his lip. "Beating them, preparing them. Your friend, his tears were worth all of this." A final taunt.

Morgan grabbed Mr. Crane by the throat and had him against the cold wall in an instant, staring him coldly in the eyes. "I will kill you," He said quietly as an officer came into the room to interfere.

Mr. Crane knew he was not getting out of this, and he decided that he would bring down what was left of Sanders' empire. He smiled, and saw the disgust fill in Morgan's eyes.

"I can only hope that you'll bring the boy to visit me." He sighed as Morgan released him. "Talk to Gregory Sanders, and you will get your little boy back."

Morgan was out of the interrogation room within two beats of his heart, the name pinned to his memory.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jeremy and his father managed to squeeze through the media without being recognized, and entered the police station. It was a portrait of mayhem. Jeremy ignored everything around him, heading straight to the offices, looking inside every one of them for the agents he had spoken to at the hospital.

When he found them, his heart sank. Each of their faces was shadowed with desolation. Spencer was not there. Then anger surged through his body, because Gideon had said that they would be able to save him with the information Jeremy had given. But Spencer was not there, and Jeremy felt even more guilt shadow over him. He burst into the room.

"You said you'd save him!" Jeremy yelled, angry tears in his eyes.

Gideon stood, pained by Jeremy's words. "We were too late…" He said, hating the words.

"You lied!" Jeremy cried, moving forward. Gideon was quick to trap Jeremy into a tight hug, masking his own guilt and sadness.

"You were supposed to help him." Jeremy whispered.

"I know." Gideon said softly.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. No profits. Just love.

He did not want to move, because to move was to make the still life surroundings into reality, and he wanted everything to remain surreal. Everything was numb, his body was like a leaf on the water, weightless, maybe even nonexistent. The chains could not be felt weighing him down. His eyes seemed never to have cried. If he did not move, he found that all of his pain melted away into the deepest recesses of his mind, or maybe, into oblivion, so that he would never have to remember them.

Curled on the floor, he did not have to see what was happening around him, did not have to listen to the sounds he heard. The pain was a dull throb, much like the beating of his heart. His pain became his heart, so that he would not have to recognize it, would not have to evoke the reason for the aching in his body. That steady beat from which he drew life. Every beat was merely a reminder that he was alive, living outside his body to escape its torment.

A ripple danced through his world of black and white, slowly bleeding colors in. Small tints, like highlights fell over everything he saw, though his eyes did not move. Then another ripple tore through, threatening to bring him back into reality.

He associated every footfall across the room as a beat, out of synch, yet still a connection. A connection to a world he was trying to elude. He curled tighter into himself, and felt his still life cracking. Like glass, and every footfall was now a stone. The glass was cracking, and as it did, he became aware of sounds that had moved through his ears in transparent motion. Heartbeats were hindered, as was his breath. He was being suffocated of reconciliation, forced to breath outside the water.

His body twitched, and he felt the glass crumble, shattering in bittersweet composition. Once again, he felt the cold carpet beneath him his pain wracked body, and he knew that the world was full of colors that scorched his tear burnt eyes. Chains scratched across the floor like nails on a chalkboard as he tried to cover his face, pools from tears became salt in his wounds.

He blinked, and the world was a broken shutter box, letting in all of the wrong things. Allowing reality to escape into his empty world. Sound ripped through his ears, footsteps, breathing, air being sliced in half. Color flooded every image within the sight that was no longer distorted. Breathing was a weight on his raw lungs, inflamed by futile efforts at screaming for aid.

And then the pain broke free, it was no longer the beating of his heart, but a solid reminder of what had happened. A torrent of fear carried on waves of explotation. There was no longer an empty world of ebony and ivory, where a heartbeat connected him to the self he was trying to leave behind. Now, reality had used its icy fingers to grip his throat and jerk him back into its lonely embrace. Now, nothing separated Spencer Reid from the Hell he had come to perceive as life.

**A/N **This is a short chapter, but a lot of work went into it, and because of the way it is written, to add anything more would have ruined its beauty.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. No profits. Small spoilers for 'Profiler Profiled'.

Morgan's mind was heavy with worry, hate, and the unwanted visions of a nightmare he could only imagine. The image of Reid from the video, as well as Mr. Cranes words haunted him. Filled him with detestation and disgust for the men who would do that to any human being, and it permeated his soul with profound despondency.

In the darkest corners of his mind scenarios played, unwanted and wished against. His thoughts were twisted, thorned images of what these men were doing to his friend. Repulsive nightmares of childhood memories and an imagination poisoned by the things he'd seen at work. Words echoed by the man he had interrogated, by the mentor of his childhood and a hundred others . He did not want Reid's nightmare to be anything like what he was seeing in his mind, he prayed that it was not.

Needing to be away from the commotion of the police station, and wanting to be within reach of information and comfort, he headed back to Quantico, and straight towards Garcia's office.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She had not been expecting him, but nevertheless, she was ready. She read the pain inside of his brown eyes, witnessed the anger in his face. And she smiled.

"Hey gorgeous." She smiled again, knowing that it was something he needed. "I was able to get some information on Sanders, which was not as easy as it should have been."

Morgan sat next to her without a word, he nodded.

"Gregory Sanders is twenty-seven years old, and lives right here in Virginia and has been out of prison for four years."

"What was he in prison for?" Morgan asked, looking into the deceitful smile on the computer screen.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Gideon turned from Jeremy to his father. Mr. Gubler stared back, pained and tired. Gideon wanted these nightmares to stop, he wanted his agent back. Mr. Gubler wanted the man who had ordered his son kidnapped behind bars. They wanted the same thing.

"Mr. Gubler," Gideon said sternly. "Do you know a man by the name of Gregory Sanders?"

Recollection shimmered in in Mr. Gubler's eyes, along with a hint of anger. "Most of his family worked for me."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Gregory roamed the halls of the apartment building, going from floor to floor to see who was fleeing in fear of the FBI. None of the men who had bought residence in this building were not fools, Gregory had made sure of that. But they were sure to believe, as he did, that one of the lower buyers would squeal. Some would scurry away with their property, and some might stay. He was merely curious as to who was fleeing. Only five doors out of thirty-two had signs of vacancy posted on their oak surfaces, maybe within the next hour there would be more.

Bored and satisfied, Gregory headed back to the elevator, up toward his apartment. He had enjoyed the last few hours of his freedom, and he was determined that what remained would be just as enjoyable, if not more.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reid slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, blinking away tears as the pain of movement spread through his body. He was shaking.

He looked around the elegantly decorated room, taking in every detail. How many boys had this man collected payment for to have set up such a wondrous setting? Reid shuddered. The only thing within reach of the chain's length was the bed. Reid stared through the torn blanket, through the fancy sheets and mattress. All he saw was pain, the face of a cruel man pressing against his own. Memories surfaced, and tears fell.

Tired, hurt and afraid, there was no hope to be found. If the team had not found him yet, then they never would. Gregory had said they were on their way only to fill him with false hope, to be able to break him again. He was a cruel man, and a lie was nothing to him.

Reid scanned the room again, looking for anything that could help him to end the pain he was in. he would not continue to let this man use him, even if that meant death. The thought of suicide repulsed him, and he did not want to consider it, but a lifetime of nights like the previous would be even worse.

A glimmer. On top of a walnut dresser adorned with incense and intricate figurines was a silver knife. The dresser was several feet away, even when he had moved as close to it as possible, but Reid was a tall man, and he would use that to his advantage.

He pulled as far away from the metal ring as the chains length would allow, his arms extended above his head, his legs stretched out. He stretched his feet forward, his toes barely able to get the surface of the dresser. He was close. He tried again, pulling on the handcuffs until they cut into his wrists, stretching his legs until the muscles pulled, his toes until they finally grazed the handle, bumping it and sending it to the floor. He smiled, relieved, then starched the pain from his legs before pulling the silver knife closer, then cradling it as he pressed his slightly bleeding wrists against his pants to stop the bleeding. Gregory would never touch him again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Mr. Gubler had followed Gideon and Hotch into another, smaller, quiet room. His hands trembled slightly as he remembered the man who had been mentioned, the man who had almost had his son, again… Without a word, Mr. Gubler sat across from the agents in a cold metal folding chair, his face troubled.

"I didn't even think of him," He said apologetically, but his eyes shifted. "I thought he was still in jail."

"We need to know why he was after Jeremy." Hotch said, trying not to sound cold.

"Of course." Mr. Gubler sighed. "His entire family was working in my main building, they were good, determined workers. Sure, there were some petty crimes on their records, but I should have known."

"You could not have known what would happen in the future, Mr. Gubler." Gideon said earnestly.

Mr. Gubler smiled thankfully, though he was still unsure. "Gregory's father, Richard, asked that I give both his sons a chance, that they were good, hardworking boys. Richard had always been a good man, you see." He said, defending his action. " And for the first few months, they were some of the best damn workers I'd ever had. But then the assults started, and I was suspicious of everyone…" He trailed off, the memories returning.

"Assults?" Hotch asked.

"Four woman and two men." Mr. Gubler said, pained. "It was happening at random, they were being beaten, and raped. The police were called, but the media wasn't informed, bad for the company." He was angry at himself. " We coaght them, after two months of my employees living in fear. I was walking down the hall when I heard her pleading. Molly was their forth, and last victim. I-I went into the small utility room, and all three of them were standing over her, restraing her, and-" He could not continue.

"What happened next?" Gideon asked softly, a new fear rising within him.

"I called the police, and they were arrested. All six of their victims identified them, all six had said the Sanders had threatened to kill them, to have them fired because they were close friends of mine, if anyone went to the police."

"So Gregory had a reason to consider Jeremy for revenge."

Mr. Gubler looked down at his hands, opening his mouth to speak, but trying not to.

"Is there something else?" Hotch asked, eyes piercing.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Gregory Sanders, his brother Bill, and their father were all imprisoned after the assulys and rapes of six employees of Mr. Gubler's. Four women and two men." Garcia breathed. "They were all set to spend six years in prison, but none of them did. Gregory got out two years early on good behavior, but Bill was beaten to death by an inmate who was related to one of the victims."

"And the father?" Morgan asked, his anger rising. Reid was in the hands of a multiple rapist. He was alone.

"Murdered shortly after Gregory was released." Her hands trembled on the computer mouse, her thoughts were much like Morgan's. She turned toward him, her brown eyes watery, afraid.

He wanted to be strong for her, for Reid, but his pain was so strong. Memories of the abuse he had suffered as a child were surfacing, demanding to be felt. Mixing with his fear for what might be happening to his friend, a muffled sob caught in his throat.

Garcia smiled understandingly, her tears were free, and despite her fear, she knew he needed her. She embraced Morgan in a tight hug, feeling his body tremble with tears he would not shed. She soothed him with her voice, which was sweeter then he remembered. Despite his fear, he smiled at her, the pain was still there, but subdued.

"Thanks." He said, falling into the care in her eyes.

"Anytime hot stuff." Her voice cracked.

Morgan continued to gaze at her, caring, gifted and beautiful. His flesh warmed as her hand fell onto his, slowely, he leaned toward her, unsure of what he was doing. They were mere inches away from one another when the computer beeped, pulling them apart.

She cursed silently, though a warmth had found its way into her blood. "Oh my," She said, looking at the screen.

"What is it?" Morgan asked, worried.

"We got an address." She turned around, and smiled.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, I is sad

"Is there something else?" Hotch asked. Mr. Gubler did not look at the agents as he spoke. "I should have said something earlier, I should have-"

"If you have any information that can help-" Gideon began.

"I didn't want to say it." He snapped. "I wanted to believe that Gregory was dead, just like his father and brother. But I knew he was alive, and I knew he'd be back after his father's death, I had his father killed."

"What?" Hotch's blood ran cold, he should have told them that.

"They had a list." Mr. Gubler stared at them, hate plain in his eyes. "When they were assaulting my employees, they had a god damned list! Jeremy's name was on that list, he would have been their next victim."

"You should have told us about him at the hospital." Hotch said flatly.

"I didn't want them to know. My wife, my son, neither of them needed to hear about it."

"But we did, and you could have spoken to us in private." Gideon said, moving toward the door. "That man has one of our men, and you knew who he was."

Hotch stood, anger in his eyes. "You are under arrest for arranging the death of Richard Sanders, and withholding information in a federal case."

"They kidnapped and beat my son!" Mr. Gubler shouted.

"If you had said something, we would have brought them both home a lot sooner." Hotch said, letting his anger coat his voice. He locked the rooms door.

They were furious, wanting to go in there and ring the neck of the man who had allowed for both his sons' and Reid's struggle to last longer then it should have. They could have rescued both of them so much sooner, before Reid had been, _sold_.

The phone rang, a blessed distraction from their new found anger. Hotch lifted his cell to his ear, closing his eyes as he answered. "Hotchner."

"It's Morgan. Garcia got an address on Sanders, turns out he purchased an apartment building through a friend of his while in prison." Morgan said, hope and pain in his voice. "We looked into all of the other tenants, they're all criminals, and all rich."

"It must be where he's keeping Reid." Hotch breathed deeply, hoping that this time, they wouldn't be too late. "Get over here, I'll brief the others, then we head out!"

Gideon looked at Hotch, hope deep within his aged eyes.

"We've got an address." Hotch informed him as they sought the others.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They were silent as the van moved, all of them double, triple checking their weapons. No one was going to let him get away this time, they would save Reid.

As they neared the large apartment building, it's windows winked and glimmered, promises of failure. But promises are sometimes meant to be broken. The BAU would break every promise that stood between them and their Spencer Reid.


	19. Chapter 19

-1**Disclaimer: Not mine, but only 15 more days till new episode!!!! **

Reid backed away from the bedroom door as he heard Gregory enter the apartment. He listened to every step as his tormenter came ever closer to the bedroom. The knife's handle became slippery as he clutched it tighter in his hands, his fear rising. He backed away until he was against the bed, he jerked forward, not wanting to touch it. There was nowhere for him to go. Gregory smiled when he saw the fear in Reid's eyes, the sight of him afraid made Gregory crave him even more. Like ham drew someone to a sandwich. He made toward Reid, who refused to back away, who trembled and hated. Beautiful thing that he was. Destruction to an underground empire, yet so afraid, so possessed.

"Stay away from me." Reid said with more conviction then he possessed. The knife hidden from Gregory's view.

"You won't talk to me that way." Gregory snickered, pulling his whip from his belt. He snapped it forward; it struck mere inches from Reid's face. "Next time, I won't miss."

Reid was consumed with anger, no longer caring about the damage the length of rope could do to him. To angry to think about the previous night in images, now he saw it in blinding colors of inverted abhorrence.

Gregory was fast, and had Reid's hair tangled between his fingers before Reid could comprehend what was happening. But he did not hesitate: Reid took the knife and slit it deeply into Gregory's shoulder, feeling the tension ease as it went through the muscle. Gregory snarled, forced to release Reid's hair, he stepped back, watching the blood flow.

"You little bitch!" He growled, turning toward the dresser where the knife had been. "You will be punished for that."

"Give me the keys." Reid demanded, holding the knife defensively.

Gregory smiled, licking the blood that had trailed to his hand. "Beg all you want, Spencer. You will never leave this room without a part of me forever inside of you. Your friends will take you away, but I will always be there, and they will hate you for allowing it."

"I didn't," Reid said, the memories coming back.

"You wanted it, and they'll know it by looking at you."

"No." Reid whispered, tears in his eyes. A familiar pain taking over his body as he fought to keep it away.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They were outside, the air was cold. Even beneath the layers of clothing and bulletproof vests, each member of the team felt the bite of the bitter night.

Within each window lurked a shadow, a creature of doubt and taunting. If Reid was not here, in this manmade hell, how many more chances would they have to find him?

Everyone was in position, SWAT, the BAU, and the local police and paramedics. There was no way to escape the perimeter, there was only hope that what they sought was inside.

"Move in!" Hotch gave the order with firm determination. SWAT and the police would take care of the first seven floors. They would take the last four.

They burst through the doors, ran past the police breaking into the lower level apartments, listened to the cries and gunfire, focused on getting upstairs and ending their nightmare.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"They're here." Gregory said coolly.

Reid had heard the start of the commotion, and hoped that it was real. He stared at Gregory defiantly, the knife still held high. "Give me the keys!"

"No." Gregory snickered, and despite the raised knife, moved closer to Reid.

Reid lunged forward, the blade distracted by his limited movement, sliding into Gregory's cheek, just barely. Gregory winced, but continued his assault, grabbing Reid's wrists and tackling the knife from his grip.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

They had made it to the eighth floor; both of the apartments on its floor were empty. They cursed the escape of two monsters, the fate of countless young men, and continued forward. JJ and Elle worked with SWAT to clear the ninth floor, Morgan the tenth, and Hotch and Gideon took the eleventh: Gregory's floor.

Halfway up the stairs, they heard a cry, their hearts hardened and they continued on. Then there was another.

"Reid!"

.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reid cried out as Gregory pulled on his restrained arms, cutting deeper into his bruised wrists. He yelled in frustration as the knife was ripped out of his hands and Gregory pulled it to his throat.

"They're almost here." Gregory said with escalated joy.

"Reid!" Hotch's muffled voice carried through the distant stairway.

Reid had made to answer him, to tell Hotch where he was, but Gregory brought his hand against his slave's mouth, wanting the agents to search, to feel the anxiety of not knowing where their boy was. Reid struggled, and Gregory loved it.

"I wont make this easy, slave." He said, forcing Reid back, forcing his lips against his own in a brief, uncooperative kiss before replacing the gag he had used the previous night. His friends would feel pain at the sight of this boy, one last pleasure before being thrown back in prison.

Reid called out despite the restraint on his voice, wanting to be found, wanting to be taken away from the creature who's claw like hands held him.

Gregory had no time to unhinge the length of chain that kept Reid fastened to the metal ring, so he sat on the bed, and forced Reid to kneel in front of him, holding him by the hair with a gun pressed under his jaw.

He moved close to Reid, and whispered into his ear. "You are mine, forever."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They burst into the one apartment that was the entire eleventh floor, carefully going from room to room. Nothing. Every room was empty, save for the door all the way in the back. Hotch and Gideon moved toward it cautiously, anxiously. They stood outside, straining their ears to for anything that indicated life. The faint clinks of chain links, a muffled cry. _Reid_!

Morgan joined them, staring at the door, thinking the same things they were. He turned toward Hotch, waiting for the signal to kick the damned thing down. A muffled cry broke the silence, and without a moments hesitance, Morgan kicked the door in. "FBI!"

Candles and incense were everywhere, an array of different whips and restraint tools covered the shelves. Metal rings were scattered about, and lengths of chains hung from a coat rack in the corner. But the thing that hurt the most, what made them stand as if time had frozen, was the sight of Reid, bound, bruised and bleeding, being used as a shield by a man who smiled like the Cheshire cat.

"Glad you could join us." Gregory's lips curled as he pushed the gun closer to Reid's jaw. "We've been waiting."

"Let him go." Hotch said calmly, eyes locked on Gregory's.

"That would be what you'd want. After bursting into my building, arresting my tenants, you would demand that I turn over the last of my slaves."

The word sent hate and disgust through all of them. "He doesn't belong to you." Gideon said calmly.

"I paid well for him." Gregory turned his eyes toward Reid and smiled. "You wouldn't want him anyway. He's used goods, much harder to sell."

They froze. Time was a cruel mistress, and she held all of them like puppets, unable to think, unable to act.

Reid's eyes closed, and he fought the tears that stung the backs of his eyes. _'They will hate you for it.'_ He looked toward his friends, who looked with unmasked loathing at Gregory.

Morgan pointed his gun at Gregory's head and took a step forward.

"Morgan!" Hotch growled.

"That's right." Gregory laughed, yanking Reid's hair. "You don't want to hit him do you? You wouldn't want me to shoot through his beautiful mouth, would you?"

He was playing games with them, and they hated it.

"You gain nothing by killing him." Gideon said, not looking at Reid.

"No one will remember just how terrifying you were." Morgan echoed.

Gregory smiled. "True. Spencer would be at peace if I killed him, but you wouldn't." He smirked. "You would all remember searching for him, wondering what had been done to him, seeing him, afraid and broken. And then you would lose him. So I guess it all depends on who I want to suffer the most."

Elle and JJ crept carefully through the hall to the doorway of the bedroom, not wanting to alarm Gregory. Elle leaned forward and whispered softly. "Everyone else has been detained."

Hotch nodded then returned his gaze to Gregory, who had moved his face closer to Reid's and was smiling with cruel intent.

"He was fun." Gregory said softly.

They raised their guns, unsure of what Gregory meant by his words.

He moved his hand from Reid's hair to his throat in a swift, untraceable motion, using his thumb to move Reid's face closer to his own. Reid tried to move away as Gregory brought his face closer, his gun's force loosening ever so slightly.

A shot rang, and then a second.


	20. Chapter 20

Yay, I compared Reid to a ham sandwich!!! 

-1**Disclaimer: Not mine... **

One shot was fired, unexpected and terrifying, piercing the ears of all who heard it. Almost immediately another followed, just as loud, a flash in which everyone felt blinded and anxious. The sounds rang through the room, SWAT man marched up the stairs, their footfalls a hundred scattered shots. They stood, waiting behind Elle and JJ, wanting to know what had happened.

Smoke rose from the barrel of his gun, dancing against the light of the room, mingling with the incenses own flavored smoke. Silence, Stillness, beads of sweat running over all of their faces. It was as if time had not only been frozen, but faded, so no body could see what had happened, those last few seconds could not be perceived.

But then everything became clear, they could all breath, and the blood was soaking into the Persian carpet, the expensive sheets.

Hotch lowered his gun, and blinked away the stillness that had held them all. He lowered hid gun, then looked behind himself, to Morgan, who's fierce eyes were pained, embers of smoldering hate. Everyone breathed, and as those last five seconds, which seemed to have lasted them half an eternity faded, they turned back to where Gregory had been holding Reid. The sixth second passed before they could bring themselves to move toward the scene depicted before them, the blood and tears, a nightmares residue.

Gregory moaned angrily as Morgan grabbed him angrily by the hair, jerking him back, ripping a few stands from his scalp. A single tear fell over Morgan's cheek as he forcefully threw Gregory against the wall, forcing his hands behind his back and ignoring the cries he made as his wounded shoulder was bent to Morgan's will.

"You are gonna hurt worse then that you piece of shit." Morgan promised.

"You cant hurt me." Gregory laughed. Morgan turned him around and punched him in the jaw, fighting to restrain his anger, his want to kill the man.

Hotch moved forward, fell to his knees before Reid. He tuned out Morgan's abuse toward Gregory, because if he didn't see it, then it never happened. When Gregory claimed he had been given cruel or unusual punishment, it would be his word against Morgan's. And Hotch wanted Gregory Sanders to feel real pain before he was locked away in another prison.

Gideon looked with utter disgust at Gregory, who still laughed, and took the keys from his pocket, and then handed them to Hotch.

Hotch lifted Reid's shaking body into his arms, feeling the warm tears fall onto his arm. He had been scared when he fired, that Gregory would have shot Reid, but Hotch couldn't stand there and watch Gregory force Reid to kiss him, not after he'd all ready been through so much. So he took the shot, Hitting Sanders in his other shoulder. Sanders had indeed come close to hitting Reid, but had missed and hit the ceiling.

Hotch lifted Reid's head and removed the gag from his mouth. Reid trembled, refusing to meet anyone's eyes as he tried to fight all of the tears he wanted to cry. He wanted to be comforted, to be assured this was real, but at the same time, he did not want to be touched, didn't want anyone to see him.

Gideon knelt down and gently removed the handcuffs, the shakes were uncontrollable. Hotch brought Reid into his arms and held him until the exhaustion of his ordeal pulled him into unconsciousness.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They waited together in the waiting room of the hospital, all of them silent. They had caught Sanders, had detained more of the buyers at the apartments, they had saved more innocent boys, but they felt as though all of those things barely mattered. Not when Reid, shy, quiet Reid who had never hurt anyone was beyond those emergency doors, not when he had been through God only knew what.

They all turned when Garcia arrived, accompanied by Jeremy, who was anxious to know what had happened, and still angry at his father. Jeremy knew that he and Spencer both could have been saved earlier, and he hated his father for keeping silent.

"Any word?" He asked, running toward Gideon.

"Not yet." Gideon replied. He did not want Jeremy there when the doctor came out, because he did not want him to feel any more guilt over what had happened. Jeremy had had no control over what Gregory Sanders did to Reid, and he could not blame himself. He was a victim too.

Again they sat, the ticks of the clock thunderously loud against the silent tension of the waiting room. Morgan had sat beside Garcia, comforting her quietly, and putting an end to his endless pacing. JJ flipped through the [ages of magazines, not looking at them, but staring through them. Elle leaned against the wall, falling into herself as she tried to think of anything but the way they had found Reid. Jeremy tapped his foot nervously, looking up at Gideon, and then the clock every few minutes. Hotch stared down at his folded hands, he could still feel Reid's tears falling on his arms, soaking through his shirt. Gideon looked back to the clock, and then to the doors.

No one could banish the images of that room from their minds, the sound of Reid trying not to cry as Gregory threatened to get him back. As Gregory promised to always be with him. Gregory's sick laughter even as Morgan threw him into the wall, holding him by the throat. The heavy smell of the incense making them all lightheaded, the ligature marks on Reid's wrists, contusions and blood. The marks adorning his back where he had been whipped, the defensive wounds on his hands, his body. Even now, Gregory's laughed plagued them, sickened them beyond reason while Reid's tears burdened them with gilt for not finding him sooner.

After an hour, maybe longer, a tired doctor appeared from behind the emergency room doors. He looked over the crowd, seeing their worry, and not wanting to speak before all of them. The young man had been through a lot, and he might not want all of these people, friends or not, to know what abuse he had suffered. He cleared his throat, and turned his eyes to the older looking men. "Spencer came out of surgery fine, he's sleeping now. I would like to speak to whoever's in charge in private."

Both Hotch and Gideon stepped forward, the others watched, worried still. Hotch did not object Gideon following, so he said nothing as they followed the doctor through the white halls to Reid's room. He lay still on the hospital bed, and neither breathed as they waited for his chest to rise and fall, to prove that he still lived. They exhaled, their eyes falling on the bruises on Reid's arms and throat, they were so light, as if they had been made forever ago…

"His left wrist is sprained, and one of his ribs was cracked, but for the most part, he isn't too badly harmed." The doctor stopped, and apologized. "The man who did this to him knew what he was doing, the bruises are fresh, but look like they've been healing for days. The lashings were painful, but almost none of them will scar, and the ones that do will be barely visible." He glanced at Reid, then back at the agents uncomfortably. "He was raped, that'll be the worst of his injuries."

Hotch and Gideon both flinched, they had hoped that they had reached him in time, that they could have saved him from the monster within Gregory Sanders. But they had sensed it, when Reid wouldn't look at them, when he tried to pull away, and when Sanders had referred to him as _used goods_. But it hurt nonetheless, knowing what had happened to Reid, when they could have saved him before it ever happened.

"Thank you." Hotch said, turning toward the glass window, looking at the sleeping form hidden under blankets and fear.

The doctor walked away, and both he and Gideon walked into the room where Reid lay, asleep and dreaming. Their hearts were heavy, their minds tired. They cursed themselves for having stopped looking when there had been no evidence, when they knew he needed them. They condemned themselves for every time they had been a step behind, every time Reid had been within their reach but they had not been fast enough. But Reid was home, he was alive, and they would do anything to keep it that way. To keep him safe.

They talked it over, what to tell the others, what to conceal. It would hurt Reid to have all of them know, but they all suspected, and they would all need to be there for him when he needed them. The team would know, but they couldn't tell Jeremy, he was all ready to filled with grief and guilt. That settled, they headed back for the emergency room doors, where they knew the others were watching, waiting anxiously to know that Reid was okay.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He walked the hospital halls, knowing that he did not belong there, in the green scrubs of a nurse, but he had wanted to be there, and so he was. He had been forced to flee the apartments, all of his possessions other then his slaves were being confiscated. He was furious.

He had stolen the lime green scrubs from an unlocked locker in the locker room, and felt foolish wearing them. But he knew how to mask his cold features to appear sweet and naïve, to fool all around him. Brendon looked into the window of the young agents room, then slowly slipped inside. He approached the bed, staring down at the slave he had not been able to take. He had wanted to punish this boy, but he had been robbed of the chance.

Infact, his anger at having lost him in the auction had brought him to turn the underground slave world in, and had brought about the loss of everything he had except the four young slaves locked away in his country house.

If he had really dared it, he could have taken the boy from his hospital bed, could have kept him locked away ad beaten. But he found, while staring at asleep and tormented in his dreams, that the four he had would be enough. That the things Gregory had done had lessened the fun.

Brendon slithered out of the room, past the agents coming to protect their retrieved friend, and disappeared into the night, as men of his kind often did. Free, and still in power.

**A/N **My friend hated me for the beginning because she actually had to wait to know whether or not I'd killed Reid… 'Strokes shoulder where she hit me' I made suspense, .


	21. Chapter 21

-1**Disclaimer:**

Jeremy proved to be every bit as stubborn as Gideon, waiting beside Reid's bed, patiently waiting for the moment would Spencer would awaken, when he could be truly sure that he was okay. When he could thank him, and apologize.

For two days, Jeremy sat as if in a trance, eating and resting minimally, as he waited for Spencer to open his eyes. Jeremy stared into every bruise, every verification of the pain that Spencer had endured, and felt his own tingle. Those extra two and a half days, Jeremy did not even think he could imagine them. Being a prisoner had been horrible, but being a slave, that must have been devastating. The FBI had not told him of all that Spencer had endured, but Jeremy knew that it must have been something unspeakable.

Gideon stared into the peaceful face of his sleeping friend, a son of sorts, but he saw beyond the mask of peace. He knew that Reid was suffering within the chasm of his dreams. Dark memories weaved themselves into fragments of dreams and hope, poisoning them. Prolonging his suffering despite his rescue. Gideon saw every twitch, heard every catch of breath. He saw the pain hidden within Reid's sleep.

Gideon was the first to see the flutter of eyelashes that beget Reid's awakening. The change in his breathing, the whispered moan. Gideon relaxed slightly, glad to see that Reid was awake, and looked down upon him with gentle eyes.

"Reid," He spoke softly, letting him know that he was really there.

Jeremy snapped away from the sleep he had been falling into, eyes falling immediately to Spencer's. A smile broke as relief rushed through his veins. "Spencer!"

Gideon turned toward Jeremy, glad to see the change in his manner. "Jeremy, go and get the others, please."

Jeremy nodded, his eyes wet. "Yes sir." And he was up, moving into the halls without hesitance.

"Gideon…" Reid's voice was quiet, adjusting to being able to speak again.

"Your safe now." Gideon assured him. "And so is Jeremy."

Reid nodded, closing his eyes, then slowly opening them.

There was an emptiness within those wide, brown eyes, a void where the light had been tainted with a darkness more cruel then shadows. It hurt to see into that darkness, to know, that it could overtake the whole of those soft, knowing eyes.

He struggled to find the words, afraid to use his voice despite the fact that he was in the company of a friend. "What happened?"

"Hotch shot him before he could shoot you. Morgan took care of him after that." Gideon smiled as he watched Reid's lips curl into a small grin.

"The others?" He asked, his voice still quiet, afraid.

Gideon placed a hand on Reid's, pained by the young mans flinch. "We were able to save a lot of young men because of what happened." He paused, letting his pain be seen. "I am sorry that we didn't get to you sooner."

Reid closed his eyes, remembering those last few minutes in Gregory's control. He shuddered, because remembering a few moments brought forth many more. "I-"

"It's okay." Gideon said, Hugging Reid softly, feeling his body tense in fear of contact. Gideon closed his eyes, listening to Reid cry. "None of this was your fault, he wont hurt you, or anyone else again."

A few long moments passed before Reid fully pulled away, shaking and aware of the approaching footsteps. Every footfall sent a new wave of fear through him, because despite knowing that Gregory was gone, it still felt as though he were coming after him.

He took a few steadying breaths, then smiled weakly at Gideon, thanking him. The fear left as he watched his friends enter the room, a steady calm entered him, ceasing the shaking in his hands. They smiled, and so did he, because they needed to know that he was okay.

Reid tried to hide all of his pain with that smile, and for now, they let him burry it away.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**A/N** Well, that is the end of my very first fic ever, a lot longer then I thought it would be. Thank you to everyone who read through it and please, now that its over, tell me what you thought.

I am considering the sequel, where I will do a sort of aftermath thing, but mix it with another case, but it wont be up till I get my own working computer. Again, thank you everyone, you are awesome!!


End file.
